


Game Theory

by Aleph (Immatrael)



Series: Gamesverse [1]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha | Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha
Genre: AU Rewrite, Action/Adventure, Canon Foil, Gen, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-22
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 256,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immatrael/pseuds/Aleph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who dares stand between a mother and her daughter's life? Precia will do anything to achieve her goals. Even if it means accepting Fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Click, click, click._ Two sets of footsteps echoed loudly in the oppressive silence. The young girl advanced hesitantly along the corridor, throwing a longing glance at the sandy-haired woman alongside her. Long blonde hair swished softly at the movement, and Linith looked down at her. The familiar’s face was grave - a startling contrast to the warm, kind demeanour she usually displayed. A hint of sadness entered her eyes at the pleading, terrified expression of her charge, but her expression remained resolute.

 _Click, click, click._ Despite the high ceiling and wide, open space, the corridor was shadowy and indistinct. The girl could see little through the gloom, and flinched at every echoing retort bouncing back from the walls, every rustle of the plants that wound up the pillars lining either side of the hall. Everything was strange, unfamiliar and scary. Desperately, she clung to Linith’s hand - the only secure, reliable thing she had encountered so far. Something was... wrong. The girl couldn’t put a finger on what, exactly, but...

The world felt _different_ , that was one of the main things. Her memories were hazy and indistinct, but she was sure that they were different to what she felt now. Even now, in the murk and gloom of the long, sinister corridor, the faint colours and dim light were far more vivid than anything in her memories. Food tasted different, she could feel the air against her skin in a way that matched nothing in her experience. It wasn’t that she had never experienced such things - she could remember picnics in a rich and beautiful garden, warm baths and the smiling eyes of her mother.

But they were distant. Faded. Washed out, as if mere stories that she had heard. Not _immediate_ , not in the way that her senses painted the world around her now.

It was scary. Everything felt different. Everything. Even Linith was new, though she was nice, because Mama had never had a Familiar before. And she didn’t know where she was, either. Asking Linith had only gained her a name - the Garden of Time - which meant nothing to her. Any more questioning and the normally attentive woman would clam up, becoming vague and evasive. And Mama... she had been there when the girl had woken up. Happy, almost to the point of crying tears of joy. She had said something about the girl being sick, for a very long time... she had looked older, it was true. Was that why her memories were so strange and faded?

And what had happened? Her mother had been happy at first, but... she’d gotten quieter and quieter, colder and colder. Her smiles had come less often, and the girl had noticed strange, intense looks in her direction out of the corner of her eye. After two or three days, she had turned and left without a word, sweeping out of the room in a flurry of cloth and leaving Linith to take over caring for her. Had she done something wrong? Upset her mother somehow? She bit her lip fearfully, worried at the possibility. If she’d done something wrong, why hadn’t her mother told her, so she could do it better? Did the older woman think she wouldn’t try to make her happy? Her mother would never think something like that, would she? Was that why she had called the girl to her now, to admonish her and tell her what she was doing wrong?

The doors at the end of the corridor came into view - tall and imposing, and somehow ominous. The huge gold portal almost seemed to radiate malevolence in the dim purple light, and the leaves along the passage produced a soft susurration as a breeze raised chills along the girl’s arms and up her spine.

Abruptly, Linith stopped, and the girl almost stumbled at the sudden cessation of movement, still clutching the familiar’s hand. Confused, she looked up at the woman and met an expression of sympathetic austerity.

“I have to wait here,” Linith said. Her voice was soft, apologetic. “You need to go in further by yourself.”

Her expression becoming desperate with fear and uncertainty, the girl silently pleaded with Linith to say something, do something other than just stand there and wait. But to no avail. The familiar gave her a reassuring, encouraging nod, but made no move to step forward and accompany her. Tentatively, trembling slightly, the girl inched forward, towards the doors.

Slowly, ominously, they opened. There was no creak, no gush of air or billowing smoke from within. In some ways, that might have been an improvement. Instead, they swung silently aside, admitting the girl into the chamber beyond. An unseen wave of menace billowed out - almost palpable in the cold hush - and swept over the girl, making her flinch away instinctively before advancing reluctantly into the room beyond.

Large. That was her first impression. The room was round, curtained archways lining the walls around a glowing disk in the centre of the floor. Beyond it, on the far side of the huge chamber, light spilled out of a gap in the walls to silhouette a seated figure on a gothic, high-backed throne.

The silence that had been oppressive in the corridor was overwhelming here, a crushing, stifling weight that bore down on the girl as if it were a physical presence. Slowly, halting, she made her way to the centre of the room, where she stood. Her breathing was harsh and ragged, the strange feeling in her chest flaring again - not painful, but strange, alien. It felt electric, alive, _dangerous_. Whereas in her hazy memories she had only a dull pulse to compare it to, here and now it was like a living thing beneath her breast, sharp and wild and terrified as it writhed like a living thing.

All further thought fled as the light behind the tall chair faded, and she caught her first glimpse of its occupant. In spite of her attempt to stifle it, a gasp escaped her. This woman... this woman was her mother... and yet _not_. Her memories - even the more recent ones, before she abruptly left - painted her mother as a warm and smiling woman, always ready to hug or play with her daughter. Beautiful, intelligent and kind, the figure of her mother had been a light that not even the faded, pastel colours of her memory could fail to give warmth to, and the girl had clung to that figure through all the fear and uncertainty of the past few weeks.

This woman was so very like her mother... and yet _different_. Older. Tired. Cold, dark and forbidding. Her presence seemed to chill the room, and her eyes held not a hint of warmth as they regarded the young girl. Unable to hold the dispassionate violet gaze, the girl broke her stare, fixing her eyes on the floor and shivering uncontrollably, though the room was not that cold.

A minute passed, and then another, the oppressive silence building into a crushing force that battered the scraps of bravado and courage the young girl had mustered into nothing. With all her heart, she wanted nothing more than to turn and run, away from the chill, dark room and back into Linith’s arms. Try as she might, however, she could not get her arms to move, nor will her legs to obey her commands.

Finally, the silence was broken as the woman spoke.

“You,” she said, and her low voice cut through the silence like a knife, “are not Alicia.”

The girl blinked, stunned. Her head flew up, hurt in her eyes and a wordless protest on her lips.

One look at the woman’s face stopped her cold before she was able to make a sound.

“You are not Alicia,” the woman repeated. “You have her memories, you wear her face, but you are not her. The differences are subtle, this early, but they are undeniably present.” She paused, letting her words sink in for a moment before continuing. “You are a failed experiment.”

Bitter tears welled in the young girl’s eyes, a cold numbness forming into a dead weight in her chest. She _had_ done something wrong. What was it? How was she different? Why... why didn’t her mother accept her as- as who she remembered herself to be? She _was_ Alicia, wasn’t she? That was the name she remembered answering to.

“You are a clone of Alicia, my daughter. An Artificial Mage intended as a replacement. You have her memories, her appearance... but you do not have her essence. As a replacement, you have failed before you have even begun. You are not Alicia. You are a product of Project Fate.”

Nausea rose in the girl’s throat (Alicia’s throat? Project Fate’s throat? Who _was_ she? _What_ was she?) Her head reeled from the cold, emotionless words and she fought to keep her balance against a sick, clammy feeling of mingled horror and terror at what she was hearing. For a moment, the world spun and she began to hyperventilate.

“But,” The word cut through her panic, dragging her sharply back to the real world. “But... I was wrong about one thing.”

The woman beckoned the girl closer, frowning impatiently until her legs took over automatically, carrying her in a dull, dazed state towards the older mage. An elegant hand reached out, taking hold of the young girl’s chin and lifting it slightly to examine her face.

“You are not Alicia, that much is true. I failed to bring her back. But... if you are not Alicia herself, you are still her clone. And while the experiment failed to bring back my little girl, its secondary aim - the production of a powerful, artificial mage... that _does_ seem to have succeeded.” She paused again, allowing the thought to sink in. Violet eyes regarded the girl as a look of slow comprehension dawned on the young face, and she finished the thought. “You may be of use to me yet, and... who knows? _When_ Alicia wakes, she may be grateful for a sister. You are not Alicia, no. Not my daughter. But I will give you the chance to prove your worth to me... _Fate_.”

The bleak tides of panic began to draw back as the words offered a platform of hope, and the girl desperately clung to it, waiting in tense anticipation and hanging on the woman’s (her mother’s) next words as if they were edicts from heaven itself.

“Would you like to see your sister, Fate?”

Deep red eyes widened in shock, and the young girl hesitated briefly before nodding. The woman raised a languid hand, and a shape moved forward from the opening behind her. As it came into the light, another strained gasp was drawn from the young girl.

For inside the tall, cylindrical tube, suspended in a foetal ball in the bubbling turquoise liquid was a figure she knew all too well. She saw it, after all, every day, in the mirror. The girl in the tank looked tiny against the complex machinery of the stasis tube - fragile, frail and impossibly vulnerable. Her eyes were closed, her expression peaceful, and along with the gentle undulating motion of her long, blonde hair in the viscous fluid, it almost served to give the impression that she was merely sleeping.

Almost.

“You see?” the woman whispered into the silence, “More than two decades ago... a terrible accident. A twist of fate cruelly snatched her away, unhindered by her youth or innocence. I managed to put her into stasis, but...” grief flickered over the woman’s pale, elegant features and she took a laboured breath before continuing. “But she is not lost, Fate. She _can_ be brought back, I have the knowledge. The ability. All I need are the tools. She can be _saved_.” For a moment, her eyes grew wistful, looking onto a scene from long ago and far away. “And... and she was always loving and sweet. I don't doubt she'd like you too.”

Snapping out of it, she favoured the young girl standing before her with a smile, and observed with calculating eyes as she seemed to almost glow in response. Her stance was unrecognisable from the scared, nervous and heartbroken trudge she entered the room with mere minutes before. Now she was brimming with energy, with hope and anticipation. The woman raised her head slightly, looking down at the girl imperiously.

“I can bring her back...” she continued” but there are those would stop me. Who say that it is wrong! Uncaring, arrogant, set and rigid in their refusal to take any mitigating factors into consideration, they issue a blanket ban on any quests such as these. They would oppose your very existence, and if they could unplug the machines that keep Alicia from the cruel ravages of time and bury her in some nameless, unmarked grave, they would do so in a heartbeat.” She paused again, violet eyes narrowing in disgust as she took another deep breath before spitting the next words, “And despite what they might say, contrary to their _fine ideals_ and delusions of _moral superiority_ , they are no better. Some of the work they fund... well. There is time for that later. For now, all you need know is that they are arrogant hypocrites, petty bureaucratic meddlers who dabble in things they do not understand and presume to pass judgement on all, regardless of their authority to do so. They are the TSAB, the Time Space Administration Bureau, and they are our enemy, our opposition to setting things _right_.”

Reaching forward, she rested a hand on the young girl’s shoulder, feeling her shake slightly through the thin cloth at the touch. “Fate,” she said softly, her voice low and kind, “I can save her, but I cannot do so alone. It requires tools, a power source for the spell. I cannot go out and retrieve what I need to help Alicia, nor can I defend this place on my own if the TSAB find us.” She squeezed gently and stared deep into the wide burgundy eyes.

“I need you, Fate.”

A light entered the youthful gaze. Dim to the point of almost non-existence when she entered the chamber, crushed mere minutes before by the harsh words Precia began her speech with, it sprung to life now as a fierce, hungry blaze. To be _needed_ , to be _useful_ , to have a _purpose_ and to make her mother proud of her... the offer was irresistible, and she clung to it like a drowning girl.

“Will you fight for Alicia, Fate?” The woman’s voice grew commanding, challenging, inspiring. “Will you train, and grow strong, and defend her? Will you stand against our enemies and hold to your beliefs, even in the face of adversity? Will you... will you help me save her?” Her voice broke slightly, and she swallowed back something that sounded like a sob, “I... I just want her back. To hold her again in my arms, sing her to sleep at night. And you’ll do it for me, won’t you? Make me proud.”

“Yes!” The girl’s voice was resolute, brimming with determination. She did not pause; no thought was needed as to her response. The words burst out from her heart, emotion layered thick behind them, “Yes, I will! Mother, I promise... I will make you proud!”

Precia gave her shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before sitting back in the throne-like chair. “Good. You are a good girl. Thank you, Fate.” She refrained from commenting on the slight wetness that appeared around the girl’s eyes at the expression of gratitude, gracing her instead with an imperial nod. “I have high expectations, and will be severely disappointed if you fail to meet them. Linith will be your tutor at first. Once you become... skilled... I shall take over, and teach you how to properly control the power you wield.”

“Yes, mother.” The girl’s voice was quieter now, her shoulders dropping slightly. Already, she was tiring after the rollercoaster of emotion the meeting had induced. Despite having only entered the room moments ago, it seemed like hours in her memory, looking backward as if through a thick fog. She shivered again, suddenly uncomfortable in the chill room.

“Very well,” Precia said. “You may go now. Eat. Bathe. Sleep. I will see you again presently.”

Dipping a short bow, the girl nodded and turned to leave, her tired step still vastly more confident than the tremulous hesitance with which she had entered the room. Confidence was in every line of her face, the aura of someone with a solid certainty of whom they are and where they are going. There was enough purpose and clarity in her to fight away the exhaustion she felt resonating through her slight frame with every step.

“Oh, and Fate?” Precia called out, just as she passed the open doors. The girl paused, turning back to the austere woman.

“Yes, mother?”

A challenging look. “I expect great things from you. Prove to me that you are not a true failure. Remember, you fight for Alicia’s life.”

The doors slowly swung shut, leaving no time for a reply. And blinking back tears, buoyed up by hope, happiness and sheer, implacable resolve, Fate Testarossa allowed her mother’s familiar to guide her away.

...


	2. Chapter One

Sunlight broke through a thin gap in the curtains, spilling in golden rays onto the small figure slumbering beneath the blankets, head hidden beneath an askew pillow. The slow rise and fall of the covers told of peaceful sleep and pleasant dreams. Across the room, a ferret shifted quietly in its own bed, fashioned from a pillow-lined basket. Its nose twitched gently, and one paw sluggishly batted at the air. The room was quiet and calm, filled by a sense of serenity and tranquillity.

The peaceful aura was abruptly shattered by the high-pitched, tinny tones of a mobile phone alarm. The tune filled the room, rousing a bleary-eyed head from under the swaddling covers to some semblance of consciousness. After a few seconds of sleepy blinking, the untidy mop of brown hair extruded a hand, reaching over to fumble at the phone. All this accomplished, unfortunately, was to knock the phone off the edge of the bed and onto the floor, where it continued to pipe its annoying wakeup alarm.

With a sigh, Nanoha Takamachi kicked the covers off and rolled out of bed, stopping to turn off the alarm as she did so. Her mood brightened considerably as she remembered what she had planned, and she hurriedly threw some clothes on and got herself ready for a day with her friends.

 _‘Yuuno-kun!’_ she called mentally, _‘wake up! We’re spending the day with Suzuka-chan and Arisa-chan!_ ’

 _‘Mmm?’_ came the sleepy reply. The tan-furred ferret stretched languidly and shook himself awake, flashing sharp teeth and a bright pink tongue as he yawned. _‘Oh, yes. Hold still a moment.’_ Nanoha obediently stilled as she finished pulling her jumper on, holding out a hand to him, and Yuuno launched himself onto her in a display of acrobatic skill that she never tired of seeing, landing lightly and flowing up her arm before settling into a secure position resting on her shoulder.

Smiling at him, she giggled as he leaned over to lick her cheek, and carefully picked up the necklace that rested on the other side of her desk. A small, round gem the colour of blood rested serenely on a cushion, its innocent appearance at distinct odds with the power that lay within.

“Raising Heart?” Nanoha asked politely as she picked it up, “are you ready?”

[Yes, my master,] replied the Device in mechanical tones that nonetheless held a hint of feminine intonation. The faint light at the heart of the ruby-like material pulsed faintly to reinforce its words, and Nanoha smiled happily at the affirmation. Slipping the necklace on, she carefully made sure it was hidden beneath her top before heading downstairs, Yuuno balancing improbably on her shoulder even as she practically flew down the staircase and into the kitchen.

“My my, Nanoha. Eager to go?” Momoko chuckled good-naturedly as she watched her daughter wolf down her breakfast. Nanoha nodded eagerly, barely registering Yuuno leap off her shoulder and trot into the living room.

“Well, have fun and be careful, alright? I know how active you girls can be with your hobbies.” She smiled cheerfully and kissed her husband as he strolled in before turning back to Nanoha. “And tell Arisa-chan and Suzuka-chan hello from me, alright?”

“I will, mama!”

“Nanoha! Are you ready yet?” Nanoha glanced towards her brother’s voice, then back to her remaining cereal. “Just a minute!” she replied, polishing off the remainder and washing it down with a drink of orange juice before joining Kyouya at the door. “Alright! Let’s go!”

“Ah, Nanoha,” he said, looking a little relieved to see her. Miyuki, eyebrow quirked and a teasing smile on her face, shot him an amused look as she handed Yuuno over, cooing as he scampered up Nanoha’s arm and took his accustomed place on her shoulder.

“Well then,” said Kyouya, opening the door and gesturing his little sister through, “off we go.”

The weather was clear and sunny as they boarded the bus, a perfect day for an outing with friends. Eagerly, Nanoha pressed her face up against the window, staring out at the glittering ocean in childish wonder.

“So pretty...” she whispered. “Doesn’t it look gorgeous, Yuuno-kun?” Kyouya raised an amused eyebrow at the earnest tone with which she addressed the ferret, who was staring out at the bay with as much interest as Nanoha herself. He tuned out her excited chattering, waiting patiently for the bus to reach their destination. It trundled along at a placid, unhurried pace, the quiet hum of the engine sending vibrations rippling through the frame and making Nanoha’s teeth rattle where she rested her head against the window, lulling her into a half slumber.

 _‘Yuuno-kun...’_ she asked drowsily, staring out at the scenery passing by, _‘tell me about your home, would you?_ ’

 _‘Huh? Um... why do you want to know?_ ’

 _‘I’m just curious._ ’

The ferret shifted his weight on Nanoha’s shoulder, making himself more comfortable. _‘Well... okay then. Um... where to start... I was raised by the Scrya tribe, since I had no parents. They took care of me as I was growing up, so I sort of moved into the family business, which is archaeology. We like on a world called Mid-Childa, which is a lot like Earth, physically. Not as much as some, of course, there are other worlds far more similar, but... it’s relatively alike. Far more people can use magic there, though. I’m not sure why magic is so rare on Earth, to be honest._ ’

He paused for a moment, pink mouth flashing in a yawn. _‘I was something of a prodigy there - my magic is very good at searching spells, amongst other things, and I have a talent for the processes of archaeology in the field. I was in charge of a dig there a little while ago where we found twenty or so ancient Lost Logia - relics from an all-powerful civilisation lost to the mists of time._ ’

 _‘The Jewel Seeds,’_ Nanoha stated. It was not a question.

 _‘Yes,’_ he agreed, _‘They were sealed under several layers of the strongest wards I’ve ever seen, in an ancient Belkan tomb. And then there were the assault constructs, and the defence systems. We managed to get them out, and had them shipped back to be analysed, but something happened to the transport. It was damaged in a storm, we think, and the Jewel Seeds were lost._ ’

 _‘And they landed here on Earth, and you came to try and get them back?_ ’

 _‘Yes. I dug them up, it’s my responsibility to see them sealed again. I won’t stop until they’re all made safe._ ’

 _‘Wow...’_ Nanoha fell silent, lost in thought for a moment, gazing out of the window without registering anything she was seeing.

 _‘Yuuno-kun?_ ’

 _‘Yes?_ ’

 _‘I’m not saying it was a good thing, but... if all of that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have met you. And I’m glad I did. So maybe some good did come of it, in a way._ ’

Yuuno didn’t respond in words, but the affectionate lick he gave her cheek was answer enough.

...

The Tsukimura household was huge. A sprawling mansion comprised of three major wings, it sat comfortably in the centre of an extensive plot of land, surrounded by lush gardens on two sides and bordering a small forest behind it. Thoroughly used to the place from her long years of friendship with the family’s youngest daughter, Nanoha walked unhesitantly up the wide path flanked by intricately shaped hedges and delicate marble water features and stood on tiptoe to ring the doorbell.

They didn’t have long to wait. An elegant, smiling maid opened the door for them and ushered them in.

“Nanoha-sama, Kyouya-sama,” she greeted them warmly, “It’s good to see you! The young mistress is just this way.”

 _‘That’s Noel,’_ Nanoha answered Yuuno’s unspoken question, _‘she’s the head maid for Suzuka-chan’s family. Her little sister Farin is Suzuka-chan’s personal maid. She’s really pretty and elegant, isn’t she?_ ’

 _‘Your friend’s family must be rich, to have full-time maids working for them._ ’

 _‘Uh huh! Suzuka-chan’s parents own a really successful engineering company. She wants to take up the family business when she grows up._ ’

 _‘How did you become friends with her, anyway?’_ Yuuno asked as Noel led them through the rich, finely decorated halls, footsteps soft on the thick, expensive carpet. Nanoha smiled fondly in reminiscence, blue eyes clouding over as she drifted back into the mists of memory.

 _‘It was when we were much younger. Arisa-chan has always been very aggressive; and back then she wasn’t as nice a person as she is now. She was bullying Suzuka, and... well, I stepped in to stop her, and there was a small incident. But after that we became very good friends! And we’ve stayed friends ever since. I feel a little guilty for not telling them about the Jewel Seeds, magic and everything else that’s happened recently, to be honest. I can tell they’re getting worried about me._ ’

 _‘I know. But you really shouldn’t. Knowing about the Jewel Seeds would worry them more, and they couldn’t do anything to help. And your society doesn’t know anything about magic - if a discovery of that magnitude was announced so suddenly, it could potentially spark wars, or even trigger a collapse!_ ’

 _‘It could really be that bad? Just from showing people magic exists?_ ’

 _‘Hey, I’m an archaeologist! I know these sorts of things! There are lots of societies that discovered something ahead of their time, moved too quickly and ended up tearing themselves apart. I’ve dug up their ruins. Look at Alhazred, where the Jewel Seeds come from. A mighty empire that destroyed itself because it went too far, too fast._ ’

“Nanoha-chan! Kyouya-san!” Suzuka’s voice snapped Nanoha out of her light trance as she realised she had arrived. Smiling happily, she greeted her friends in turn and joined them at the table as Suzuka’s older sister retreated upstairs with Kyouya and Noel to talk amongst themselves. Ushering a large, fat tomcat off her seat and depositing Yuuno on the table, she accepted a cup of tea from Farin, with a grateful nod of thanks as the ferret looked around the wide, open room with interest.

Cats. His first impression was cats. Fat toms curled on soft, luxurious chairs, a pair of pale-furred Siamese lounged by an old fireplace and rambunctious kittens chased one another underfoot. Yuuno felt all the hair up his back stand on end as dozens of curious feline eyes turned his way. He was suddenly very aware that he was the smallest animal in a room full of what were, despite their domestication, predators.

‘What, did I do to deserve this?’ he asked silently, ‘Dammit, this is unfair! Somebody, somewhere, somehow, is punishing me for something I haven’t even _done_ yet!’

Shivering, and trying hard to ignore the curious gazes - helped by the fact that most of the cats merely examined him for a few seconds before losing interest - he looked around further.

The large window situated in the far wall offered expansive views over the gardens, and elegant potted plants lined the walls, their thin branches curving upwards in carefully shaped arcs. The walls were a delicate pink, with the occasional picture breaking up the monotony, and a few low tables and cabinets were interspersed between the plants, strewn with knickknacks and small ornaments. A few soft, cushiony chairs sat squatly here and there, mostly occupied by bundles of gently purring feline. One or two were squabbling quietly over ownership of the comfy spots, irate paws batting at one another’s ears and low hisses threatening dire reprisals for continued obstinance.

A soft sound behind him drew his attention, and he turned round to meet blue eyes a few shades darker than Nanoha’s, set into a curious grey-furred face. Rather more importantly, from his point of view, a pink tongue licked sharp white teeth a few inches away from his eyes.

“Mrrowl?” the kitten voiced, raising an inquisitive paw to bat at the strange new furry thing in her home.

‘... why me?’

Without pausing to find out how friendly the kitten’s intentions were, Yuuno turned and bolted off the table at top speed.

 _‘Nanohaaaaaa! Heeeeelp!_ ’

Running for his life from the murderously inquisitive feline, Yuuno dodged around the table legs, scampered through Nanoha’s legs and streaked across the floor. Throwing himself out of the way of a swatting paw from one side and leaping over a lashing tail on the other, he chanced a glance back over his shoulder.

Not only was the grey kitten keeping up, she appeared to actually be gaining.

 _‘Naaanooohaaaaaa!_ ’

Distantly, he heard the sound of human voices and movement, but he was too focused on staying ahead to really register what was happening. He swerved as he came to the wall, skidding on the tiled floor and bouncing off the skirting board as he turned through ninety degrees almost on the spot. Flattening himself to fit under a low chair, he gained a few inches as the kitten had to swerve around it, and he used the brief respite to frantically glade around for salvation. Seeing a pair of feet ahead of him, he put on an extra burst of speed and made a desperate bid for safety.

“I’m back!” announced Farin cheerfully, bearing a tray loaded with cups, a teapot and a plate of snacks, “Sorry I took so long, I had to - ahhhh!” Stumbling backwards as Yuuno shot between her legs and used them as a barrier against the kitten on his tail, she desperately tried to regain her footing without stepping on either of the two small animals as they spun and wove around her feet, Yuuno trying to keep her between him and his pursuer, the kitten trying to dodge round and catch him. The tray wobbled and shook alarmingly, rattling the cups and sending the teapot sway ominously.

“Yuuno-kun!”

“Vesta, stop that!”

“Farin-san!”

All three girls darted forwards to help, getting in one another’s way and impeding their attempts at intervening. The animals continued their dizzying chase, spinning Farin around like a carnival wheel as she desperately tried to regain her balance and avoid stepping on the animals. Alas, her attempts in vain, and gravity eventually took its toll. The young maid toppled backwards with a strangled yell, sending the tray flying up and the kitten flying.

Nanoha didn’t consciously decide to intervene. She just moved, eyes focusing on the off-centre maid as she began to fall as she rapidly analysed the situation. Her hands darted out in a lightning-quick motion, grabbing the tray in an attempt to stabilise it and supporting Farin’s dizzy, toppling form at the shoulder. She sagged slightly under the weight, because the older woman was noticeably taller and heavier than she was, but endured.

“Safe!”

The word rang out in dual tones, two girls giving voice to it at the same time. Nanoha blinked and looked sideways at Arisa, who had apparently moved to help at the same time. After a moment of staring in surprise, both girls started to giggle quietly in relief. Most of the cookies were still on the tray, and the teapot hadn’t spilled. Whilst one or two cups and plates had fallen, the damage was far less than it could have been.

“Uwaaa...” moaned Farin from between them, blearily recovering. She looked slightly green, and her eyes were still slightly glazed with disorientation. “That was... urgh, really not fun...” Her eyes lit on the shattered china on the floor, and widened in horror even as her face paled. Contrasted with her purple hair and uniform, the grey-green tint was far from complimentary.

“Ahhh! Sorry Suzuka-chan, sorry Nanoha-chan, sorry Arisa-chan! I’ll get some more and clean up the mess, I promise!”

“Ah, Farin-chan, don’t worry. It wasn’t... your... fault...” Suzuka trailed off with a sigh as her maid continued the babbled apologies as she set the tray down and vanished back out of the room in search of cleaning equipment. The young heiress shook her head in fond exasperation at the older girl, smiling with warm amusement.

“She’s so excitable...”

...

Once the mess had been cleared up and the broken crockery replaced, conversation turned to lighter matters. Nanoha drifted in and out of the chatter, responding absent-mindedly. Her thoughts were on other things, central among them the twenty-odd glowing blue gemstones currently scattered over her home city. Yuuno had said that any one of them was powerful enough to shatter dimensions at full power. So far, none of them had been activated to more than a few thousandths of their potential, but even so...

She shivered, remembering a tree the size of a small mountain, with roots that had torn through city blocks with casual ease, breaking bridges and reducing great swathes of the city to rubble. It was a minor miracle that Yuuno had managed to get a barrier up in time to confine the damage to temporally distorted space, the destruction reverting as soon as he cancelled it.

Nanoha’s eyes darkened. That fiasco had happened because she had decided to take a day off. Because she’d gotten lax and lazy, assuming that because she had been gathering Jewel Seeds without much difficulty so far, she could afford to take a few days off to relax for a bit. Never again, she vowed silently. Never again would she put her personal comfort before the safety of others.

“-oha!” “Nanoha!”

Snapped out of her reverie, Nanoha looked up, startled. Suzuka was giving her a concerned look, and Arisa seemed more than a little annoyed at her failure to answer them. She flushed a little as she realised that she’d been ignoring them, absorbed in her musings as she was.

“Nyaa ha haa... sorry, sorry. I was lost in thought. What were you saying?”

Arisa sniffed huffily, but Suzuka leaned forward, a worried frown on her face. “You’re been a little down lately, and you’re distracted all the time. And you’ve been zoning out, like just now. Is someone wrong? If something’s worrying you, would you like to talk to us about it? We might be able to help.”

“Suzuka-chan...” Nanoha breathed, guilt striking hard at her reticence about coming clean to her friends. She looked sideways at Arisa, who looked back levelly through lidded eyes, a silent promise of support in her gaze. “Arisa-chan...” Tears welling in her eyes, she almost spilled everything there and then. But Yuuno’s words of earlier rang clear in her mind, bolstered by the warning look the ferret was giving her. ‘Knowing about the Jewel Seeds would worry them more, and they couldn’t do anything to help,’ ran through the back of her mind in memory, ‘There are lots of societies that discovered something ahead of their time, moved too quickly and ended up tearing themselves apart.’

Somehow, she bit the words back. Her mouth worked soundlessly, starting to form words before dismissing them unsaid. Eventually, in a voice far smaller and more insecure than she had intended, she managed to speak. “Suzuka-chan, Arisa-chan... I’m sorry, I can’t. I... I wish I could tell you, b-but it’s not something I can talk about just now.” She looked at them pleadingly, willing them to understand. “Please... I promise I’ll tell you as soon as I’m allowed to. And it’s not anything bad, honest, just a few little things! They’re just... not really mine to talk about, so I have to-”

“Nanoha-chan,” interrupted Suzuka gently, “it’s okay. We’re not going to force you to talk about it if you can’t, or don’t want to. We understand. Right, Arisa-chan?”

The blonde looked a little put out at Nanoha declining to explain what was occupying her thoughts, but nodded grudgingly. “Alright. But you have to tell us soon! Promise!”

“Arisa-chan! Don’t promise, Nanoha-chan, you don’t have to tell us anything!”

“Yes she does! I’m _worried_ about her!”

“That doesn’t mean you can force her to talk about her problems!”

“Well then, it should!”

A smile spreading on her lips despite herself, Nanoha sat back, soaking in her friend’s voices. Both of them, in their own ways, had accepted her choice not to talk about it - perhaps not with the best of graces, but they had accepted it nonetheless. For the first time in weeks, the nagging weight lifted from her shoulders, and she allowed herself to simply laugh, smile and enjoy the company of her oldest and closest friends.

...

Twitch. Sniff. A slight wriggle forwards. The kitten hunkered down low in the undergrowth, a faint breeze gently ruffling her fur. The food-givers had picked her up by the back of her neck, in a grave affront to her dignity, and put her outside. Clearly, they were not pleased that the very large brown-tan rat had managed to escape her, and wanted her to bring them food. Well, they’d see how much they liked it when she hunted down the largest, most dangerous animal in the whole area, and then ate it herself! Her eyes were fixed on her target, the unsuspecting prey hopelessly unaware of her magnificent presence. Slowly, carefully, she edged closer, allowing it a few more moments of blissful ignorance as she gained a more favourable position, sealing its fate beyond any hope of escape or survival.

Oblivious to the huntress closing in on it, the leaf on the end of a fallen branch fluttered gently in the breeze that stirred the forest floor. Some distance away, the three humans chatted and laughed, having moved outside to savour the bright, warm afternoon over a picnic lunch near the edge of the forest. For now, the kitten disregarded them. They were unimportant, minor details consigned to the background (though later... well, the possibility of stroking remained open - she might deign to allow one of them to pet her under her chin, just the way she liked).

In a perfect leap, calculated and enacted with grace and poise that would make the greatest of human athletes weep with envy, she pounced upon her target in a flawless strike from the heavens! Nothing could escape such an attack, so beautifully was it made, and the style and elegance of the movement were sheer poetry in motion. Cunningly, though, her prey proved its formidable and treacherous nature by darting aside at the last moment, too fast for the eye to follow.

That was, after all, the only explanation for how she could have missed. The possibility that she had miscalculated her leap, however briefly or minutely, was absurd - to even think such a thing was to acknowledge its impossibility. Still, her victim’s base trickery would not save it for long. In a lightning-fast movement, she recovered from the stumbled landing - entirely intentional, of course, in order to give her prey the false impression it had so much as inconvenienced her, and thus trick it into lowering its guard - and struck. This time, her claws shredded its woody support, and her deadly fangs bit deep into its flank as she rolled over with it, kicking at its body with the sharp, rending claws of her back paws.

Leaves, as it turned out, tasted _terrible_.

Spitting the offending morsel out in disgust, she sniffed haughtily. This farce was unworthy of her further attention, and she resolved to pay it no further mind. Glancing around quickly to check that nothing had witnessed her infinitesimally small error, she spotted something moving on the ground just inside the forest border. A brightly illuminated patch of the ground shimmered and shifted, grass and dirt gleaming in a sunbeam from on high. Eyes wide and tail perking up, the kitten followed its dancing, fluttering motion raptly, focusing with laser intensity on every shift and sway.

A loud rustle sounded as a sudden gust swept through the trees overhead, and the patch of light darted away from her. An escape attempt! She bounded after it eagerly. The leaves above shifted once more in the wind, and the sunbeam vanished. But another appeared ahead of it! Switching focus in a heartbeat, she leapt forward again, intent on this time catching the brightly-lit spot of sunshine.

Twenty seconds and seven consecutive sunbeams later, a perfectly executed pounce was snarled by a tree root that _definitely_ hadn’t been there when she jumped. Tumbling head over heels, she fell through a small bush and came to rest in a rather undignified upside-down heap.

Hissing in annoyance as she extracted herself from the jumble of limbs and tail, the kitten looked around grumpily. Her irritation vanished, however, as her eyes fell on the object resting on the grass before her, half-hidden from view in a slight hollow beneath the curving trunk of an old oak tree. The blue gem sparkled even in the meagre light that was able reached it under the shade of the large trunk and broad leaves. It seemed to whisper softly to her, a siren song of promise and potential in its honeyed, wordless tones.

The kitten’s mind was young and simple, but impressions nonetheless expressed themselves to her - food, warmth, strength, grace, power. Curious and tempted, she edged closer to the shiny thing, hazarding a tentative sniff. It smelled strange, tantalising and fundamentally _wrong_ , like arrogance, lightning and the shape of the sky on moonless nights. The heady, alien scent made the fur all along her back stand on end, but the quiet murmurs of possibility it exuded kept her from bolting.

Faint shivers ran along her spine and her tail bottled out with a mixture of anticipation and fear, but the kitten had never been one to deny her curiosity once it was roused. Mind whirling with the images the glittering jewel offered, she focused on the only one worthy of her self-acknowledged magnificence, edging closer and closer still as the image solidified, displacing the others and enveloping her until she was almost living it.

Her whiskers met the surface of the gemstone, encountering a resistance that was at once hard, brittle, yielding and supple. The paradoxical sensations sent hot and cold chills racing through her tiny body. Shivering once more, fur puffing out and heart hammering within her chest, she gingerly, fearfully stretched out her tongue and licked the strange artefact.

And the world _changed_.

...

Nanoha felt it the instant it happened, like a punch to the gut. The wave of power rolled out, washing across the grounds like an ethereal tsunami and continuing on, sensed only by those attuned to such things. Luckily, Suzuka and Arisa were too busy petting the kittens that vied for their attention to notice her turn suddenly pale, swaying slightly and clutching the table for support. A soft gasp escaped her at the sheer violence of the release, terrifyingly close by.

 _‘Yuuno-kun..._ ’

 _‘I know. I sensed it too.’_ The ferret looked at her searchingly, sleek head cocked up and eyes narrowed. _‘What should we do?_ ’

 _‘Uh...’_ Nanoha dithered, unable to decide. She couldn’t just run off to tackle the Jewel Seed with no excuse, yet her mind remained stubbornly blank of any reason she could give to Arisa and Suzuka. Yet staying put, with the Jewel Seed so nearby, would present an unacceptable risk to her friends.

 _‘Uh...’_ A time distortion barrier would take her friends out of the battlefield, but Yuuno couldn’t cast that here, they would be certain to notice the circle of glowing runes around him. She had to get far enough away from them that Yuuno could safely cast it out of sight, but without an excuse, their suspicions would be raised even further, and they would probably insist on starting to question her again.

What to _do?_

 _‘Nanoha! I have an idea! Follow my lead!’_ Squirming out of Nanoha’s hands, Yuuno squealed and darted off towards the forest. Nanoha stared after him in shock for a moment before realising what he intended.

“Ah! Yuuno!” She looked apologetically at her friends. “Maybe he found something... hang on, I’ll go get him back.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Suzuka leaned forward, carefully depositing the kitten occupying her lap onto the ground. Blinking in confusion at the sudden loss of stroking, it mewled piteously and pawed at her ankle, vying to be picked up and petted again.

“No, no. He’s not gone far, I’ll be fine.” Standing, Nanoha flashed a quick smile at the pair and departed, following Yuuno into the forest at a light jog, calling his name. As soon as she was sure they could no longer see her, she broke into a full sprint, no longer pretending to search the ground for the wayward ferret. Reaching under her shirt, she drew out the marble-sized jewel, its deep crimson hue a splash of ruby against the green and brown forest she rushed through.

“Raising Heart, please!”

A burst of light the colour of cherry blossoms at the height of spring enveloped her, and she felt ribbons of light coalesce into her Barrier Jacket in a matter of two or three seconds. Raising Heart’s staff form dropped into her hand, and she gave it an experimental twirl without breaking stride, reaffirming its weight and heft in her muscle memory.

 _‘Yuuno-kun!’_ she called. She couldn’t see him, but that didn’t matter for telepathy, _‘The barrier!_ ’

 _‘I have it!’_ came the reply, and a moment later she felt the pulse of his by-now-familiar magic a second before a ripple passed over the area, dulling colours to a near-monochrome and accompanied by the characteristic jerk of a time distortion effect.

Breaking into a clearing, she had a brief second of warning in which to throw and arm up to cover her eyes from a blinding flash of light beyond the next cluster of trees. As it faded, blinking, she lowered her arm and looked up.

And up.

And further up still.

“ **MREAAOOW** ,” went the kitten, standing a head taller than most of the nearby trees. The sound echoed oddly, as if it was a hundred cats mewling all at once, slightly offset, at a volume that had Nanoha wincing and raising a hand to her ears. “ **MRAA!** ”

“... ... ...” said Nanoha. A glance down at Yuuno revealed him to be staring at the titanic feline with much the same expression of stunned disbelief as her.

The kitten’s enormous tail lashed happily, stripping branches and leaves from the trees it brushed over with every stroke. It cocked its head curiously, wondering why the grass was looking so funny. Stepping forwards to get a closer look, it experimentally batted at part of it with a paw.

Each step sent reverberations through the ground, the vibrations shaking the earth beneath Nanoha’s feet and almost making her stumble. Wide-eyed and gaping, she watched as the huge creature ripped a tree clean out of the ground with a single stroke of a paw, sending it bouncing away.

“Th- th- th-” she stuttered, “that’s a b- _big_...” She trailed off, blanching as the giant kitten licked another tree with a tongue the size of a car.

Beside her, Yuuno was scarcely in any better state. “I-it must’ve... the Jewel Seed granted its wish to become bigger... literally...” With a light groan, Nanoha raised a hand to her head in a mixture of confusion, shock and bewilderment.

“ **MREAOW?** ” The pair turned pale once more as table-sized blue eyes turned their way. Eyes, Yuuno realised with a horrible sense of déjà-vu, that he _recognised_. Evidently coming to the same conclusion, Nanoha’s mental voice intruded, laced with tones of dread.

 _‘Yuuno-kun, is that..._ ’

 _‘Yes,’_ he replied in a dull, lifeless tone. _‘Yes, that’s the same one._ ’

Nanoha took a moment to recall how the kitten had acted when she had encountered Yuuno. And then to imagine the same behaviour applied to her current scale.

 _‘... urk._ ’

The kitten raised another inquisitive paw to swat at the interesting new tiny things, and Nanoha scooped up Yuuno, bracing to dive out of the way. The paw began to descend...

... and a dozen bolts of golden lightning blazed out of nowhere, the air shrieking in their wake, to impact its flank, sending it stumbling with a yowl of pain that split the air and landing prone on its side with an earth-shattering crash.

Dumbfounded, Nanoha turned to see her saviour.

...

Blonde hair blew back dramatically in the wind, fluttering in two long streamers of colour. A long pole of black metal terminated in an axe head inset with an orb of electric gold, held with confident familiarity by a gloved hand. Deep red eyes focused on their target with a powerful intensity, backed by a resolve so great it was almost frightening. The figure stood on top of a telephone pole just outside the edge of the forest, balancing with impossible ease. Her Barrier Jacket was mostly black, a leotard and skirt with a wide, billowing cape fanning out behind her in the breeze.

Nanoha _stared_.

Levelling her Device at the fallen kitten, the girl spoke. Her words were inaudible at the distance Nanoha stood from her, but the runic circle that appeared in front of her was unmistakable in its intention. Gasping, Nanoha took to the air, the Flier Fin spell coming automatically. Wings of pink light snapping into existence at her ankles, and she launched herself towards the kitten. Landing on its side, she swivelled round and barely managed to raise a shield before the attack hit.

Golden lightning broke over the forcefield of pale pink like waves over the sea. The sheer _force_ behind the attack made Nanoha gasp again, this time at the unexpected effort. Driven back a step by the impact, the taste of copper flooded her mouth along with a bolt of pain as she bit her tongue.

Yuuno watched from the cover of the bushes. He would be of no use in this fight, he knew. Too small, too vulnerable, and not at all cut out for offensive combat. And frankly, he was beginning to realise that Nanoha was terrifyingly powerful - far more so than him, if it came to it.

‘She’s improving at a terrifying rate,’ he mused. ‘It was bare weeks ago that she first picked up a Device, and yet she’s already able to fly, and shield against attacks as powerful as that. What _is_ she?’ He looked back over at the black-clad girl, assessing her. From the style and composition of the attacks, as well as the Device she held...

 _‘Nanoha! She’s almost certainly from my world! Be careful!_ ’

Atop the felled kitten, Nanoha had already come to that conclusion herself. What she was struggling with, however, was how to respond. She didn’t want to attack - fighting would solve nothing, and she didn’t want to hurt the girl. Deciding to see if the girl was willing to listen to diplomacy, she nodded to herself. All she had to do was find out why the girl was attacking - or rather more likely, why she was after the Jewel Seeds - and then they could work things out like reasonable people.

“Excuse me!” she called, hoping her voice would carry the distance. “Why are you- ahh!”

As she began to speak, the blonde had narrowed her eyes, tensed, and _moved_. Nanoha had never seen anyone cross a distance so fast in her life. Before she had even got five words into her opening question, the girl was almost on top of her. The head of her axe-like Device snapped back, and a blaze of energy erupted out to either side, forming a glowing scythe-blade that looked, to Nanoha’s eyes, very intimidating indeed.

Rather more intimidating still was the fact that the girl didn’t stop. Snapping the crackling blade out in mid-flight, she continued moving, weapon seamlessly moving into an overhead strike...

... straight at Nanoha. With a cry of fear and surprise, the young mage barely brought Raising Heart up in time to block, the polearms crashing together with a shock that hurt her hands and jarred her arms all the way up to their sockets. Quick as a flash, and apparently not even inconvenienced by the force of the collision, the blonde girl drew back for another attack. This close, Nanoha could see her eyes directly - burgundy pools of resolute will, hidden desperation and absolute conviction.

She began to _rapidly_ rethink her notion of not wanting to hurt the girl. From all the evidence, it looked like the opposite state of affairs was more likely.

The next strikes came slower - still terrifyingly fast and strong, but Nanoha managed to keep up with them. Still, each one forced Nanoha back a step, until a particularly vicious swipe at her stomach sent her stumbling backward. Almost on reflex, she activated her Flier Fin spell again, taking to the air in order to escape.

Retreating quickly to a safe distance, she recognised the triumphant look in the other girl’s eyes a second too late.

[Lightning Bind,] intoned a mechanical voice. Completely unlike Raising Heart’s dulcet tones, this voice was deep, crisp and stern, as well as being more overtly mechanical. Nanoha brought Raising Heart up in readiness to block whatever came at her next, eyes flicking around to identify the source of the-

Golden rings encircled her wrists and _pulled_. She barely kept hold of Raising Heart as her arms were yanked out to either side in a crucifix position, leaving her unguarded, totally defenceless and with almost no leverage whatsoever.

“Wha- a bind? H-hey!” Straining, she forced her arms together with every ounce of strength she could muster. They didn’t budge an inch. The girl flew over in a long arc, stopping in front of her. The scythe-blade crackled with energy, and Nanoha flinched, suddenly aware of how _utterly_ defenceless she was.

The scythe rose high in the air, and Nanoha caught the girl’s eyes again. They were captivating, so full of emotion. The sheer determination in them... Nanoha felt a little humbled by it. Her own drive to collect the Jewel Seeds suddenly seemed minor in comparison. This girl was fighting for something that meant the world to her, there was no doubt. There was sadness in her gaze as well, this time. Hidden behind layers of resolve and dedication, to be sure, but Nanoha knew sadness when she saw it.

“Whatever means so much to you,” she blurted suddenly on impulse, “I hope it works out for you. If it’s that important to you, you deserve it.”

The girl blinked in astonishment, completely thrown. It was the first real expression Nanoha had seen on her for the entire fight. Glancing at the scythe, halted in mid-fall, she noted with some relief that the blade wasn’t in line with her. Either the girl had suddenly become a _terrible_ shot, or it had been aimed to knock her out rather than kill her. That was good. Not only did Nanoha really not want to die, but it showed that the girl really wasn’t all that bad.

So. She was bound in midair, with no defences whatsoever, and her captor was standing in front of her holding a very big, very sharp scythe with an energy blade and looking confused. Not... not the _best_ of negotiating positions, but Nanoha felt confident that if she could get the girl talking, they could get this sorted out quickly and amicably.

“Um... I’m Nanoha Takamachi, and I’m-”

“Another mage in search of the Lost Logia,” the girl interrupted softly. Her voice was calm, firm and clear, and she had recovered her composure, expression once again a calm, steely mask of focus. Her gaze flicked to Raising Heart. “With an Intelligent Device like my Bardiche,” she noted with interest. Looking Nanoha up and down, she thought for a moment.

“Do not interfere, and cease your search for the Lost Logia,” she stated. It was not a request. “I will allow you to go unharmed this time, but in future I will not be able to be so lenient. For your own safety, stay out of this.” She ignored Nanoha’s stammered attempts at a rebuttal and turned back to the giant kitten, which was beginning to rouse itself. Landing near it, her Device shifted again into a glaive-like form. Four long struts flipped out from the haft just under the blade, and wings of golden energy sparked out from them.

Even from a distance, and at a bad angle due to the stubbornly unmoving binds, Nanoha knew a Device’s sealing form when she saw one. As the sphere of energy grew at the Device’s tip, she renewed her struggling, trying to break out of the bind on raw strength.

 _‘Yuuno-kun, help!_ ’

 _‘Nanoha!’_ He sounded close by. _‘Listen, she’s definitely from my world, and she’s a powerful mage! This is a fight you can’t win! Please, listen to reason and stay out of her way!_ ’

The girl drove the sphere of energy into the ground, and a line of broken, shattered earth traced its path to the kitten. Golden lightning wreathed its form, arcing mercilessly over its fur, and the giant creature yowled in pain, writhing and kicking.

 _‘Yuuno-kun, please! I have to do something!_ ’

 _‘Nanoha..._ ’

 _‘I can’t just let the poor thing suffer! I’m sure she’s a good person at heart, I just have to find out why she’s doing this and make things right! PLEASE, Yuuno-kun! Help me!_ ’

A scream from the kitten punctuated the silence as the Jewel Seed was torn from its body hovering above its prone form. The sound seemed to prompt Yuuno into action.

 _‘... alright. But promise me, Nanoha, be careful._ ’

 _‘I will, Yuuno-kun._ ’

Green light flared around the rings of gold, and both shattered, freeing her. Nursing her sore wrists, she turned and made a beeline for the kitten. As she did, a bolt of lightning shot up to the heavens. Where it dispersed, dark clouds began to gather. That looked... ominous.

 _‘Suppression spell!’_ Yuuno warned, _‘She’s sealing the Jewel Seed! Nanoha, don’t get caught in that, it’s powerful!_ ’

A hole opened up in the cloud layer, expanding rapidly into a jet black ring. From it, a dozen or so spears of lightning fell. They did not, to Nanoha’s eyes, look friendly.

“Divine Shooter!” she yelled desperately, hoping to disrupt the spell and stop the deadly arrows hitting the kitten by forcing the girl to defend herself. The pink balls of light shot out with blinding speed... only to break against a shield the girl conjured almost reflexively. She didn’t even look round, all her attention focused on the sealing.

The spears of light crashed into the ground, lancing into the kitten and the ground around it and prompting further mewls of pain. As a magic circle began to glow underneath it, a glimmer in the black circle above quickly grew into a light too bright to look at. With a final grunt of effort from the girl, a pillar of golden fire erupted downwards from it, bathing the kitten, the Jewel Seed and everything else within a twelve-metre circle in the sealing spell.

When it was over, and the light had faded, the Jewel Seed hung motionless in the air above the limp form of the kitten, returned to its normal size. Focusing on it intently, Nanoha was relieved to see it breathing slowly. Alive, then. That was a relief.

Her focus on the once-again tiny creature nearly cost her dearly. Only the hiss of an incoming attack alerted her in time to slam a shield up. Eight spheres of crackling electricity exploded against it, less than a metre from her face, with a blast that left her ears ringing and her eyes blinded by sunspots, pain ricocheting through her skull. The sparkling motes of gold left by the explosion hung in the air for a moment as her shield guttered and vanished, drained and broken with the effort of holding off the attack.

Then they rushed towards her en masse, like iron filings drawn by a magnet, and detonated.

White hot agony speared through her chest. The impact, buffered only by her Barrier Jacket, was like what she imagined being kicked by a horse would feel like, as long as the horse in question was wearing red-hot horseshoes and it set off a cannon next to her ears as it did so. Coughing, deafened, her vision bleary and her nerves screaming in pain, she desperately tried to stabilise her flight, no longer even sure of which way was up. She scanned around for her opponent as she cleared the cloud of smoke, Barrier Jacket tattered and burnt, skin reddened by the intense heat, two white-hot spikes of agony signifying what she was fairly sure were broken ribs. Well, probably. It certainly felt like _something_ in her chest had been replaced with jagged metal taken straight from a blast furnace. Some abstract part of her mind, divorced from the immediate situation by shock and panic, hysterically wondered how it was possible to _hurt_ this much and still even be conscious, let alone flying.

She couldn’t see the other girl. Clumsily, hampered by the fact that her fingers weren’t working right and her hands were shaking, she tried to brush the hair that had fallen loose out of her face. She needed to- to... there was something she needed to do, some precaution she needed to take. A... barrier? Or a shield? Or a field-type spell? Her head _ached_ , and she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to-

[Sonic Move.]

A presence behind her, so close she could feel the body heat. Eyes widening in horrified realisation, Nanoha started to turn-

[Photon Lancer.]

Light. Pain. She was falling...

Darkness claimed her.

...

Yuuno flung himself recklessly through the undergrowth, ignoring the thorns and whip-like branches that scratched his flanks, racing to catch Nanoha before she hit the ground. On top of the injuries from an attack like that, it was possible that a bad landing might even be fatal, with the critical damage to her Barrier Jacket. Skidding to a halt at roughly the right spot, he gasped for air and set the magic loose.

Three casting circles of soft green light appeared; arrayed above one another at what his quick calculations told him would be the end of Nanoha’s tumbling path down from where the other girl had caught her with the last attack. As the plummeting girl’s body hit them, they sunk under her weight, compressing like a giant spring to slowly bleed off the momentum of her fall and lower her softly to the ground. She came to rest on her back, feather-light, and Yuuno scampered over hurriedly to check the extent of the damage.

She was breathing. Good. He pushed as much power as he could summon up into a Physical Heal spell, watching the viridian glow bathe her prone form - her Barrier Jacket having dissolved completely as she fell unconscious, leaving her school uniform in its place. It helped - he could feel her bones knitting together and see the burns shrinking - but it was nowhere near enough.

The blonde girl touched down softly and held her Device out. The Jewel Seed, still hanging in the air, quivered for a moment before shooting into the yellow gem inset into the head of the black metal axehead.

[Jewel Seed XIV sealed,] it announced, pulsing once to confirm the acceptance of the Lost Logia before falling silent. Eyes flicking downwards, the girl frowned. The Jewel Seed hadn’t moved... but the kitten was gone.

She found it a few metres away, weakly limping towards Nanoha. The girl’s words echoed again at the back of her mind, and she gently picked it up. It struggled a little, but was too weak to put up more than a token protest. Silently, she carried it over to the fallen mage, noting the ferret perched on her shoulder staring at her. While obviously no normal animal, she was less than intimidated. It was no match for her in a straight fight, and both of them knew it.

She deposited the kitten down near the girl’s body, watching dispassionately as the tiny creature limped over to the girl and nuzzled her face. Mewling softly when she failed to relax, the young kitten tried to rouse her, licking her cheek and pushing its little head against her chin. A flicker of guilt ran through the dark-clad magical girl as she watched the distressed little feline.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, kneeling down beside the girl, just out of reach. The ferret glanced at her, but seemed to realise she wasn’t talking to him. “I wish- I would have left you alone. I would. But I can’t let anyone interfere. Not with this. Not with the stakes as they are.” For a moment, her resolute mask dropped, and she suddenly looked very young, and her eyes bore sadness far beyond her years. Her hand drifted out, as if to touch her unconscious rival’s cheek. “I wish...”

She sighed wearily. “Please,” she said, and this time it was addressed to the ferret whose eyes gleamed with intelligence far greater than a simple animal should possess, “keep her out of this. I hit her hard enough to take her out of the running for at least a fortnight. Use that time to convince her not to come back.” Her eyes drifted up and left, into the depths of memory. “Next time, I won’t be able to hold back.”

Yuuno watched her with hard green eyes, gaze unwavering. Nodding once, she rose and walked away. Within a few seconds, she was lost between the trees. Yuuno put the mystery the girl represented aside for now. At the moment, his primary concern was Nanoha. He had people to fetch.

...

“She isn’t back yet. How long has it been?” asked Arisa for the third time in as many minutes. Diplomatically sipping her tea to avoid having to answer immediately, Suzuka snuck a glance at her friend from beneath her eyelashes. Despite her grudging acceptance of Nanoha’s refusal to talk about whatever was going on with her, it seemed as if Arisa was still unwilling to allow the brunette out of her sight for too long. Hopefully she would calm down a little over the remainder of the weekend and be less agitated by Monday.

To tell the truth, she was getting a little concerned as well. Nanoha had been gone for almost ten minutes, and catching Yuuno should only have taken one or two. Nonetheless, she summoned up a reassuring smile for Arisa and set the cup down with a clink. “Don’t worry,” she soothed, “I’m sure she’s just having a little trouble catching Yuuno-kun. He can be pretty hard to keep hold of when he wants to run around and play.”

“Hmph,” Arisa sniffed. “Fine. I guess. But if she isn’t back soon, I’m going to look for her.”

Spotting a scrap of moving tan fur amidst the grass, Suzuka nodded towards it. “No need. Here they come now.”

Arisa turned, fully intending to give Nanoha a piece of her mind for taking so long and making her worry, an angry frown already on her face. She was halfway through the first indignant syllable when she stopped and blinked, confused.

“... there’s Yuuno, sure. Where’s Nanoha?” She scanned the trees behind the ferret, looking for a patch of moving white amidst the greens and browns. None appeared. As Yuuno got closer, they began to hear his frantic squeals.

“I think he’s upset... do you think something happened?” Arisa stood, Suzuka following suit, and moved to meet Yuuno halfway. As soon as they started moving, he skidded to a halt, circled twice and began to dash back the way he had come, stopping after a few metres to look back over his shoulder at them impatiently. His small body seemed to quiver with tension, and his stance emanated panic from every line.

“I think something’s wrong,” said Arisa, tone now dead certain and heavy with worry. Suzuka nodded, declining to talk in favour of running after the small patch of fast-moving fur. Yuuno moved as fast as they could keep up, flashing through the undergrowth at impressive speeds for such a small creature, stopping only to allow them to reorient on him when they lost track of where he was, squeaking loudly to draw their attention.

“Why would Nanoha be all the way out here?” gasped Suzuka, ducking under a branch and manoeuvring around a bush’s sharp-thorned, grasping branches. “Surely she couldn’t have chased Yuuno this far? How far did she-”

Her questions were abruptly cut off as they cleared a particularly dense thicket of saplings and saw the girl in question.

...

Kyouya was smiling idly, playing with a lock of Shinobu’s hair and laughing softly with her. The tea cooled slowly beside them, ignored, and Noel was conspicuous only in her absence, having retreated to give the two a little alone time.

The faint scream split the warm, peaceful atmosphere like the sharp crack of shattering ice, and the distant, panicked shriek that followed it by a second made both teenagers’ blood run cold.

“Nanoha!”

Kyouya _moved_ , forcing his body to its limits as he grabbed the first available object that could substitute for a sword. Hockey stick in hand, he considered the stairs only for the split second it took to dismiss them as too slow, rammed open the window and leapt out in a single, seamless movement. Tucking and rolling as he hit the ground a storey below, he came up in a dead run, the wind howling in his ears as he raced towards the source of the screams.

Bursting into the clearing, he came to a dead stop almost instantly, his vision narrowing until only one thing remained.

His sister lay limp on the ground, Arisa frantically checking her vitals. Her hair, unbound, fanned out across the ground in a soft curtain, and a faint purpling around her left cheek foreshadowed a magnificent black eye later. Her clothing was riddled with small tears from branches and undergrowth, and there were burnt patches dotted here and there whose source he couldn’t even begin to guess at. Thin lines of scarlet signified shallow lacerations - again, probably from branches or thorns - which were bleeding sluggishly, and her posture was that of someone who had fallen some distance, not simply collapsed.

Forcing down the tidal wave of rage, he ignored the stares of the two girls as they noticed him, surprise painted clearly on their faces as they took in his mussed hair, half-buttoned shirt and the hockey stick he carried casually. Noting the slow rise and fall of Nanoha’s chest and the twin-toned keening of her ferret and a small grey kitten that was nuzzling her face, he ruthlessly leashed his movements down to a brisk walk over to Nanoha’s prone form, glancing around at the surroundings as he did so.

No hills. No disturbed undergrowth, save the paths he, Arisa and Suzuka had taken. No trees large enough to climb.

Hmm.

Kneeling down next to his little sister, he carefully checked her vitals. She was in no danger, thankfully. Unconscious, yes, but her breathing was good and her heartbeat was strong. The damage seemed to be mostly superficial, aside from a couple of lightly fractured ribs and a few nasty burns on her back. He stared at the charred cloth, eyes narrowed, wracking his brain for anything that could create an effect like this. Nothing came to mind, and he dropped the matter in favour of more important topics.

“Arisa.” His voice was crisp, stern and betrayed almost none of the boiling fury he felt. Almost. “Go back to the house. Phone an ambulance. Get the maids to make up a bed for her to rest in until then.” The girl opened her mouth to argue, to refuse, to adamantly insist on staying by her Nanoha’s side.

Kyouya looked at her. A brief moment passed.

Arisa shut her mouth again and nodded mutely, before dashing off towards the house as fast as her legs could carry her.

“Now, Suzuka. Tell me _everything_ that happened, right down to the last detail. Leave nothing out.” He glanced at her, took in the wide eyes, the faint tremor. His voice softened somewhat. “Go slowly. Start from the beginning. Where were you?”

She swallowed, composing herself before attempting to start. When she did speak, her voice was shaken and a little wobbly, but clear. “I- we were sitting out near the edge of the forest, on the p-patio. Talking about... um... I think we were talking about the cats. Yuuno-kun suddenly ran off into the forest, and Nanoha went to get him.” She paused, thinking hard for a minute, “... we offered to help catch him, I think, but she said she could do it easily and went after him. Um... we waited for... I think maybe ten minutes or so? Then Yuuno c-came back, acting really upset, so we followed him, and he led us here, and... and...” For a moment, she teetered on the edge of tears, but recovered before she succumbed to them.

“Alright,” said Kyouya, “thank you. The doctors might want to talk to you, when they get here, so try to remember all the details you can.” Carefully scooping Nanoha into his arms, he stood up, supporting her head on his shoulder. Her breathing hitched as he lifted her, but otherwise she made no reaction. His frown deepened, and he set off back towards the house at a brisk pace.

First, he had to get Nanoha settled somewhere she could recuperate until the ambulance arrived. Then he needed to call his parents and explain what had happened. And then... then, he was going to find out who or what had hurt his little sister, and make them _pay_.

...

“... she wake up?”

“Hard to say, but she’s recovering fast. At this rate, she should...”

Darkness flowed behind her eyelids. She felt as though she lay at the bottom of a deep pool of still water, the depth muting and distorting sounds from above. Down here, in the cool darkness, everything was peaceful and still. She knew, however, that the sharks of pain and exhaustion circled above, just waiting for her to make a break for the surface. Time passed - perhaps seconds, perhaps hours - as she lay there and contemplated what to do. Maybe it would be better just to stay down here? Not forever, just until the sharks got bored and went away. Then she could swim up to the surface unhindered. That would a be better plan than trying to go now, right?

“... worried about her, Shiro. I hate seeing her so... so _still_. It’s like the time you were...”

Her mother’s voice, wavering with suppressed pain and anxiety, sent a jolt through her system. She had heard that pain before, years ago, when her father lay surrounded by machines and IV drips, pale, frail-looking and swathed in bandages. Never again, she had vowed back then. Never.

Through a distance that could have been inches or miles, she looked upwards through clear water towards the sound of her parents’ voices. Damn the sharks. Ignore the pain. Forget the exhaustion.

Kicking off from the bottom, Nanoha swam.

...

Blue eyes fluttered open briefly, and Shiro nudged his wife, who was cuddled into his shoulder seeking comfort. “She’s waking up,” he observed quietly, watching his daughter’s eyes struggle open again before losing the fight to remain so and sliding closed once more.

“Nanoha?” asked Momoko gently. “Nanoha, can you hear me?”

“Mmth...” mumbled Nanoha. She dragged her eyes open a third time, and this time kept them that way, blearily focusing on her family arrayed around her bedside with matching expressions of concern. She blinked a few times, dazedly, before an expression of guilt spread across her face.

“I made you worry...” she rasped, “... and Suzuka-chan and Arisa-chan as well.”

“Shh, sweetheart,” Momoko soothed, kneeling beside her and wrapping her in a gentle hug, careful not to jar her bandaged ribs. “It’s alright, it’s alright. Do you remember what happened, how you got hurt?”

Nanoha hesitated. Not for long, just a fraction of a second, but everyone in the room caught it, though nobody reacted to it. “N-no,” she said, “not really... there was a light? From behind me. And then... I was falling down, and then I woke up here. I’m not really sure exactly what happened.” Her eyes flickered over their faces, assessing their expressions, “I’m sorry I can’t be any more helpful,” she added. “It all happened so fast, and...”

“It’s alright,” Shiro soothed, “if you can’t remember, we won’t blame you for that. Just rest, and focus on getting better, alright?” He waited until she nodded sheepishly, then smiled.

“Alright. Now, if you feel up to it, I believe there are a couple of young ladies downstairs who are rather eager to see you.”

“Suzuka-chan and Arisa-chan are here?!” Shiro was impressed as Nanoha actually rose up on her elbows into a half-sitting position as she reacted, before falling back down onto the pillows again with a wince and a soft thump. Momoko hid a smile, and Kyouya raised an eyebrow.

“... yes,” Shiro temporised, “but I don’t think you should see them if you’re going to overexert yourself...”

“I’ll be good, I promise! Please, papa? I won’t strain myself; I just really want to see them.”

He looked her up and down, taking in her condition. Despite her heavy slumber of a few minutes ago, she seemed reasonably alert, and apart from a slight slurring of her speech the mild concussion seemed to have had no deleterious effects. “Alright,” he decided, “I’ll ask the staff to send them up. Now, your mother and I need to talk to the doctors, so we’ll step out for a minute and give you some time with your friends. Kyouya, Miyuki, do you mind staying here and looking after her?”

He needn’t have asked. Both were more than willing to stay guarding their little sister, and Shiro left them to it with a chuckle. Nanoha sank back into the pillows as he and Momoko stepped out, weakly requesting a few moments of rest until her friends arrived.

Quietly pushing the door to, they approached the white-clad professional reading through Nanoha’s clipboard in the outer room. He was middle-aged, balding, with faint bags under his eyes and a slight blue tinge on one side of his lip. The cause was apparent, as he was chewing absently on his pen while scanning over the information. Glancing up as they approached, he waved them over.

“Frankly,” he started without waiting for them to ask about Nanoha’s condition, “her injuries have me baffled, and I can say that without any shame, because they don’t make sense. Your son tells me that there were disturbances or broken undergrowth near where she was found, which doesn’t make any sense because to be perfectly honest it looks as though she’s been dragged headfirst through a hedge.”

He flipped the page and skimmed over the next one, pausing to reread a couple of the notes before continuing. “Her chest injuries and concussion remind me of what I once saw on a JSDF recruit who had a concussive grenade blow up in his hand before he threw it, except for the fact that two lightly fractured ribs are far too minor for the force of an explosion necessary to cause the grade of concussion she was brought in with, though she’s been recovering at an astounding rate.”

Flipping another page over he frowned, “The most bizarre part, however, are the electrical burns on her back. Three of them, two in the small of her back and one just under her right shoulder blade, all indicative of...” he looked up, expression earnest and apologetic, “... I have no idea. I can’t think of anything that could cause burns like this, they’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The only comparison from thirty years on the trauma ward that I can draw is a lightning strike, and the size, placement and circumstances render that theory ludicrous.”

Inside the room, carefully listening for the faint strains of the conversation through the not-quite-closed door, Nanoha winced as she caught the words ‘concussive grenade’, ‘electrical burns’ and ‘lightning strike’.

“Anyway, despite the unusual nature of her injuries, she’s responded excellently to treatment-” the doctor abruptly fell silent as Suzuka and Arisa entered the room. Pausing briefly to murmur polite greetings to the three adults, they hurried into Nanoha’s room. After a brief silence, Arisa’s voice exploded from inside in near-wordless anger, interspersed by Suzuka’s calming tones. Glancing in through the door as he shut it, Shiro caught a glimpse of the blonde girl pacing and gesturing wildly as she roundly scolded Nanoha, with her softer-spoken friend trying to calm her down in between her own worried, disapproving glances at Nanoha. Nanoha herself looked guilty and more than a little ashamed, for some reason. It could just be at making them worry, but combined with whatever she was holding back...

A glance at Kyouya revealed the teenage boy already looking back at his father. His expression made it clear that he was suspicious as well. Exchanging a nod with his son, Shiro pulled the door closed again and returned to the conversation at hand.

“So when will she be recovered by?” asked his wife. The doctor considered for a moment, flipping through the clipboard. “I would say... two weeks of bed rest at home, and she should be alright. Bring her in for checkups both weekends so that we can be sure of no relapses, but as long as no complications arise, I’m optimistic she’ll be up and about again in a fortnight. She’s a healthy girl, and most of her injuries aren’t as bad as they look. And she’s healing fantastically.”

“I see.” Momoko smiled at the man in gratitude. “Thank you very much, you’ve been very helpful. May we take her home now, or should we wait until later?”

“My pleasure to be of service, I assure you. And there are some forms to fill in, but once those are out of the way, she’s free to check out whenever she wants to.”

The forms didn’t take long to complete, but it was still long enough for Nanoha to have fallen asleep from exhaustion by the time they returned to the room. Arisa and Suzuka seemed a little put out, but were mollified by a promise that they could visit Nanoha at home. Nanoha herself remained in a deep slumber until they were almost at the door, only rousing as she was tucked into her own bed.

“Mama, papa? I’m sorry for worrying everybody...”

“That’s okay, sweetheart. Are you _sure_ you don’t remember anything? If anything comes to mind, anything at all, you can tell us.”

She remained silent for a long time, absently bringing a hand up to stroke Yuuno as the little creature flowed up onto her bed and nuzzled her cheek with a torrent of squeaks and nips, obviously glad to see her safe and sound. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, she looked up apologetically.

“I’m sorry, everything’s still blurry.” A yawn forced its way out of her, and she blinked tiredly. “I don’t think I can stay awake much longer... night mama, night papa. Say goodnight to Kyouya and Miyuki for me?”

“We will. Sleep tight, sweetheart.”

As her parents left, they were unaware of the second conversation taking place in the darkened room.

 _‘Nanoha... this was my fault. I shouldn’t have drawn you into this, if I hadn’t asked you to help, you wouldn’t have been injured so badly._ ’

 _‘It’s not as bad as it looked, Yuuno-kun. I’ll be fine in a couple of weeks. And as soon as I’m better, I’ll start searching for the Jewel Seeds again. I still don’t think that girl really wanted to hurt me._ ’

 _‘Didn’t want to- Nanoha, she put you in hospital!_ ’

 _‘Nyaa ha... well yes, sort of. But she gave me a fair chance to surrender first, and I did sort of attack her, so it was really self defence. And she even apologised. I think she would really have rather not hurt me; she just didn’t have a choice. Next time, I know I can get through to her. All we have to do is talk, and I’m sure we’ll be able to sort everything out._ ’

 _‘What about your family, though? What if you get hurt again?_ ’

For that, Nanoha had no answer, and an uneasy silence fell between the two until she drifted off to sleep.

...

Outside, red eyes watched patiently through the window until the girl fell asleep, her breathing becoming slow and steady and her expression sliding into peaceful slumber. A dark cape rustled faintly from amidst the shadows of the rooftop as its owner brought a small golden triangle up to her face.

“Did you capture snapshots of the family?” she murmured quietly. The talisman pulsed once with a soft gold light and she nodded. “Good. Note the address and location.” Another pulse from the talisman confirmed its acknowledgement, and she sent a lingering look back towards the sleeping girl in the room across from her rooftop perch.

Then she turned, cape flaring out behind her as she set her mind homewards. With another faint rustle and a brief flash of light, the shadows were once again left empty.

It only took a few minutes of blurred travel to arrive at her temporary lodgings. Alighting on the roof of the towering skyscraper, she dismissed her Barrier Jacket as she made her way down from the access door to her penthouse. The black lace of her dress replaced the comforting protection of the Barrier Jacket as she pushed open the door and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Fate-chan!” Arf interrupted her en-route, bounding over to nuzzle her in greeting, “how did your preliminary scouting go?” She growled happily as Fate’s hand came down on reflex to pet her, the reaction having long since become automatic.

“It went well,” said Fate, smiling down at her Familiar as she scratched in exactly the right place to make Arf’s hind leg spasm with pleasure. “I’m familiar with the basic layout of the area, and I managed to locate and seal one of the Jewel Seeds-”

“What?!” Arf abandoned the petting session instantly, rearing back and reflexively taking human form to gain height. “Fate! You know that’s dangerous, why did you try something like that on your own?! You should have called for me - or better yet, taken me in the first place!” She waved her arms irritably as she scolded, gesturing wildly to illustrate her point. “My _job_ is to protect and support you, you can’t just-”

“Arf... Arf!” Fate spoke over the irate Familiar, “Arf, it went fine, barring one minor complication. I sealed the Jewel Seed without any significant problems... I wasn’t even scratched, and it didn’t take much power, either. I don’t think it had activated to more than a thousandth of its full potential.”

Arf seemed to mostly calm down at the reassurance, but still eyed her master suspiciously. “What _kind_ of ‘minor complication’?” she asked dubiously, eyes narrowed. Fate paused at the fridge, staring off into the distance.

“A girl... a young mage. Her name is Nanoha, she was...” Fate trailed off, looking contemplatively through the window at the city panorama spread out below. The fridge light cast a sharp contrast across her face in the evening light, illuminating one half while leaving the other in shadow. After a moment of quiet reminiscence, she appeared to snap out of it and removed a couple of sandwiches from the fridge, nudging the door closed as she returned to the table. Arf watched apprehensively, distrustful of this new turn of events.

“Anyway,” Fate said, her voice once again businesslike, “she was after the Jewel Seed as well, but she wasn’t at all trained- she could barely hold her Device, and she had no idea how to fight. I was originally going to just bind her and let her go, but she somehow broke free - I think she had an ally somewhere - and attacked again, so I took her out. Hard.” A slight expression of guilt flashed across her face, but she buried it ruthlessly. “She won’t be a problem for at least a week, probably more. In that time, we can gather the Jewel Seeds unhindered, and with any luck, she’ll decide not to try again once she gets out of hospital.” She nodded decisively and took a bite out of the sandwich, closing the issue. Still, Arf was uneasy for some reason. This unknown mage had shaken Fate’s resolve, even if only briefly, and from the sounds of it she had done it even from the wrong end of an entirely one-sided fight. That boded... badly.

Polishing off the last few pieces of the sandwich, Fate stood. “Alright, I need to call Mother. You should get some rest, I’ll join you shortly.”

Acknowledging a reluctant nod from Arf, Fate strolled into the small, private room marked on the penthouse plans as an office. She didn’t use it as such, of course, but it was still useful for things like this - private communications back home, planning, doing maintenance work on Bardiche and so on. Focusing her will through her Device, she concentrated on the dimensional coordinates for the Garden of Time, whispering them under her breath to lock them into the spell.

An inward jerk as the magic stretched out across dimensional space to connect, and a Midchildan casting circle spun into existence in the air in front of her. The area inside the ring of runes and symbols flickered briefly before resolving into a pale woman with long grey hair in an elegant, low-cut dress. She sat in a cavernous hall on a high-backed chair, and looked up as the communication window opened with a raised eyebrow.

“Ah, Fate,” she greeted. Her tone was drawling, low and husky. “You have completed your preliminary assessment?”

“Yes, mother. Linith made sure Arf and I were settled before returning to the Garden, and I have already acquired a basic familiarity with the area and obtained one Lost Logia.” The woman’s eyebrow rose further at this, the only change in expression she showed.

“Within a day? Impressive, Fate. Very well done.” Her voice was flat, almost monotone, and the words sounded rote. Nevertheless, the effect on the young girl was transformative; her shoulders came up, a smile appeared on her face and she stood taller, more confidently. “There was one small complication to report, however,” she continued, waiting for her mother to wave a hand in a silent command to elaborate. “A young girl - a mage, native to this world from what I can tell. She was trying to collect the Lost Logia herself, accompanied by an animal-”

“A Familiar?” the woman interrupted. Fate considered. “... no,” she eventually decided, “it didn’t look or act like one. In appearance, it was just a small mammal, but it was able to use magic and seemed to be intelligent. It only intervened twice, though. She was badly trained, or laughably inexperienced, so at first I just drove her away from the Jewel Seed and bound her. I believe it stepped in to free her, and she attacked again as I was in the process of sealing it. I used a dual-stage attack as a feint to shoot her from behind, and it used magic again to catch her as she fell.”

“She was able to fly?”

“Yes, she was relatively powerful. Probably AA rank at least, just horribly unskilled. She could barely even hold her Device.”

“Hmm,” the woman mused. “You say she’s a native? Follow her, find out where she lives, who she is.”

Fate smiled happily at the chance to impress her mother with her initiative. “I already have done,” she said proudly, “She was taken to hospital, and then to her home. Transmitting pictures of her family - mother, father, two older siblings - and the location and address of her home.” Bardiche glowed briefly as it sent the information in question, and the images flashed on-screen, finishing with a shot of the girl herself.

Precia nodded in interest, looking over them. After a moment, she looked up and favoured Fate with a smile that fell just short of reaching her eyes. “Again, good,” she complimented, still in the lazy, drawled tone that had not changed substantially throughout the conversation. “Your initiative is impressive.”

Fate glowed at the praise.

“Hmm...” The woman flicked through the data Fate had gathered, narrowing her eyes sharply at one or two parts, skimming over other portions. After a few minutes of thought, she nodded. “Very well, Fate. You acted well, given the circumstances. Continue searching for the Lost Logia, and keep an eye on this Takamachi girl.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Good. If that’s all...” she waved dismissively and began to turn away.

“Um...”

The woman looked back impatiently, “What is it?”

Fate bit her lip, fidgeting slightly. “Um... during the fight, while she was bound... the girl said something... confusing.”

“Oh? What was that?” The tone was bored, but Fate didn’t seem to notice.

“She told me her name, and said... she said that she hoped I achieved whatever my goals were, because if something was important enough to me that I fought so hard for it, she thought I deserved it.”

The bored, distracted expression slowly slid off the woman’s face, and a glimmer of interest lit her eyes. “Did she now...” she mused. “Interesting... very interesting indeed...” She thought hard for a moment before pursing her lips. “... do not reveal our ultimate goals, but... if you wish to explain why you need the Lost Logia without going into details, you may do so. Tell her your name if she returns. Let her see... yes, let her see that our cause is just, that we fight to protect a life. I know you would prefer to discourage her peacefully. Hopefully, she will stand down and stop opposing us if she understands the stakes we fight for.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Avoid the ferret. If it was using magic as you say, the chances are that it is connected to the TSAB, or some other faction. Perhaps some new type of Familiar or an artificial being of some kind... regardless, it is not to be trusted. You are certain it was not hers?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Very well. And Fate... you are a kind girl, I know. But if she will not see reason... harden your heart, and do what you must.”

“Yes, mother.” The young girl’s voice was hollow, but resolute. “I will.”

...


	3. Chapter Two

She was half-blinded, dizzy and confused, desperately looking round to find her opponent.

[Sonic Move.]

Eyes widening with fear, she turned slowly... so slowly...

[Photon Lancer.]

The dead, mechanical voice spoke, each word like a block of iron dropping into place with military precision. Pain erupted from her chest, pangs of agony reverberating up and down her spine...

The pain was gone. She was hovering in midair, bound and restrained, helpless before the black-clad girl who stood on a circle of light in front of her. But something was different, something was wrong... she felt like those deep, burgundy eyes should have been filled with determination, or sadness, or hope. They should have been wide and open and full of emotion, drawing her in, silently calling to her.

Instead they were narrowed, vengeful and twisted with hatred. The blonde girl raised her weapon for a killing blow, the crackling scythe blade springing out with a hungry roar. The tip came down in an unstoppable attack...

She was standing on the ground, looking up at the source of the shots that had saved her from the enormous creature attacking her. But the staff that had fired them was slowly swinging round to point at her, cold eyes behind it regarding her as one would look at a cockroach in the kitchen. Golden light began to gather at the tip of the weapon...

Blue eyes snapped open with a strangled gasp. Nanoha jerked sideways and back, pressing herself into the mattress instinctively to get as far away from the phantom death-blow as she could. The awkward twist jarred her still-tender ribs and she hissed in pain

 _‘Nanoha? Are you alright?’_ Yuuno’s voice sounded, warm and comforting. She clung to it, still mired in the dregs of sleep, shivering as she hugged her pillow.

 _‘... yes. J-just a little... a bad dream.’_ She tried to make her mental voice sound confident and self-assured, dismissing the lingering terror and pretending nothing was wrong. Had she been speaking out loud, she might have managed it. Unfortunately, she was not. The subtle brush of mind-on-mind as she replied told Yuuno all he needed to know about her emotional state, and he scurried over and up onto her bed to lick at her cheek in an attempt to provide comfort.

 _‘It was that girl again, wasn’t it?’_ Despite his questioning tone, it was a statement of fact. This was not the first such dream his charge had experienced in the fortnight since waking up in hospital. Nor, he had a nasty feeling, would it be the last. Tactfully responding to Nanoha’s unspoken plea to talk about something else, he changed the subject.

 _‘So. I heard your parents talking about a trip of some sort? What’s did they mean?_ ’

 _‘Ah, yes. We’re going up to a nearby hot springs resort we know well. We’ve been there before, we go every- ah, yes, you’re not from Japan, are you? Well, we have a long series of consecutive holidays all strung together around this time of year, so we leave the bakery in the hands of store employees and all go on a family holiday. It’s really nice. This time... ah... Suzuka-chan and Arisa-chan are coming...’_ Nanoha’s mental voice became more uncertain as she mentioned her friends, both of whom had been highly suspicious in the two weeks since she had gotten hurt. Arisa in particular seemed to have forgotten or rescinded her agreement to allow Nanoha her privacy, and had only held back from forcibly interrogating the young mage out of concern for her health.

After a short, uneasy pause, Nanoha picked back up, _‘Uh... anyway, yes. Um... I think mama and papa want to help me recuperate, because it’s meant to be good for people who... aren’t very well, spending time at a hot springs. We’ll be there for the whole weekend, and then I have my last check-up the morning after we get back.’_ She glanced at Yuuno, smiling at his carefully-hidden concern. _‘And it’s a long way from the city, and nothing ever happens around there, so there’s no chance of me running into any trouble._ ’

Marginally reassured, Yuuno nodded and shifted to nuzzle her cheek again. Giggling quietly at the ticklish sensation, she brought a hand up to stroke him, allowing herself to take a brief moment revelling in the warmth surrounding her, the lack of pain in her chest and the absence of anything attacking her -a combination that had been all too rare for the past fortnight.

“Mmm...”

Glancing over to make sure the door was locked, Nanoha stretched an arm over to her bedside cabinet to pick up Raising Heart. Resting the red gem in the palm of her hand, she twitched her fingers. The faint glow at the back of her mind brightened, warmth radiating from it to enfold her in a gentle embrace.

 _‘Uh... Nanoha?_ ’

The light within brightened further, flowing down her arm and coalescing under her fingers, guided by the simple equations she ran through in her head. Within seconds, it hit critical mass, and a sphere of soft pink light the size of a golf ball sprang into existence over her right hand. Responding to her commands, it hovered for a second before zipping upwards to circle above her head.

 _‘Nanoha, what are you doing?_ ’

 _‘Well, I can’t do any practice physically at the moment, with my ribs still sore. So I’m practicing my magical control instead.’_ The ball started to trace a figure of eight pattern, starting slow and slowly speeding up until it was almost a blur.

Nanoha closed her eyes to concentrate and another ball appeared, beginning its own figure of eight pattern at a right angle to the existing one. Yuuno spared a moment to be impressed - both projectiles were passing through the same space at the centre they shared at least twice a second, yet somehow Nanoha was keeping the pattern just right so that they wouldn’t collide.

A faint grunt came from Nanoha, eyes still screwed tightly shut, as a third shot appeared. With a figure of eight on all three axes now, the mathematics was getting formidable. Keeping the shots slightly out of phase so that they didn’t crash into one another made it even more so. Concern overrode Yuuno’s awe, and he pushed against Nanoha’s cheek.

 _‘Nanoha, you shouldn’t be straining yourself at all while you’re still injured! Please, don’t feel as though you have to train - stop and rest._ ’

 _‘I feel fine, Yuuno-kun. And if I don’t practice, I’ll get rusty. Besides, if I don’t do **something** , I’m going to go mad from boredom._’

Slowly, the entire whirring structure began to move in a wide circle as the origin point at the centre shifted. It looked like an atomic simulation, blurring projectiles flashing out in their orbitals at speeds that made it impossible to tell exactly where they were at any given time. The prone girl took a laboured breath as her lips moved soundlessly, and a second orbital-structure appeared about a metre from the first, drifting round along the same curved path. They followed one another, on opposite sides of a circle, the only sound in the room Nanoha’s shallow panting and the whizz and whirr of the shots.

Yuuno growled, deciding he’d had enough. Focusing for a brief second, he lashed out with a barrier and green light flared. The shots disappeared with a sharp crack, and Nanoha gasped at the shock of the sudden cancellation.

“Yuuno-kun!” she blurted, hurriedly switching to telepathic speech when she realised she had spoken out loud, _‘What was that for? I was practicing with those!_ ’

 _‘Listen to me,’_ Yuuno bit out, mental voice terse and tense with frustration, _‘Overtraining will not benefit you. A week of bed rest will not make you rusty. If you continue pushing yourself beyond your limits - which you **were** , don’t try to tell me otherwise - you will hurt yourself. You might even do permanent damage to your Linker Core. So lie down, tolerate the boredom and **stop endangering yourself**._ '

 _‘Yuuno-kun... look, I feel fine! I’m not overtraining-_ ’

 _‘You don’t know that! You’ve been using magic for barely a month, you have no idea what straining yourself too much feels like!_ ’

 _‘I’d know if I were putting myself in danger! Please, stop holding me back! I’m not made of glass!_ ’

 _‘Why are you so adamant about this? What’s so vital that you would risk injuring yourself and your own magic for it?! What difference will a few more days of bed rest to make sure you’re healed-_ ’

“I need to get the Jewel Seeds!”

Silence. The words seemed to hang in the air, both of them breathing hard from frustration and exertion. Blue eyes bored into green as Nanoha stared Yuuno down, propped up on her arms where she had reared up into a sitting position with her last, verbal declaration. Standing on her lap where the sudden movement had thrown him, his fur bristled and his back arched angrily, teeth bared. The words sank in slowly, and both of them relaxed, muscle by muscle, on some unseen signal.

 _‘You said how much damage they could be capable of,’_ said Nanoha tiredly. _‘I... I’ve seen the kind of damage disasters can do. On TV, and in newspapers. The Jewel Seeds could kill thousands of people. Tens of thousands. What... what if they cause an earthquake? Or a tsunami? You said that a Jewel Seed can do really bad things like that when it activates!_ ’

Yuuno closed his eyes briefly, feeling a headache coming on. The frustrating part was, he couldn’t even blame her. The Jewel Seeds _were_ an enormous threat, and had they been scattered around his own childhood home, he had no doubt that he would be as frantic as she was.

 _‘And... and there’s that girl, too. She's after them for some reason, and I think she really needs them. But if it means that lots of people will get hurt, then that's bad, and I can’t let her get them. Only... she’s better than me. Stronger, and more skilled, and... I can’t win against her. Not like I am now. And that means I can’t get the Jewel Seeds, can’t make sure they’re sealed and kept safe. So... please, Yuuno. I need to train. I have to._ ’

Yuuno made the mistake of looking up, and caught the full brunt of Nanoha’s pleading gaze. There was thinly veiled desperation in her eyes, backed by the knowledge of just how devastating a large-scale natural disaster could be.

 _‘... alright,’_ he conceded, _‘alright, I’ll help you practice more. But not now, alright? Right now, focus on healing. Wait for three days. Then I’ll start picking up the pace of what you’re learning. Agreed?_ ’

 _‘... fine...’_ Nanoha’s tone was grudging, but accepting.

 _‘And enjoy this weekend. You’re going to the hot springs! That’s meant to be a good thing, right?_ ’

 _‘Yeah, I suppose,’_ Nanoha smiled, her mood lightening, _‘And I’ll be with my friends, and Noel-san and Farin-chan are coming as well, and mama and papa and Kyouya and Miyuki, of course... it’ll be really fun!’_ Her tone was cheerful by the time she finished, optimistic and upbeat. Relieved, though not entirely over his concerns, Yuuno settled back down to nap some more until the time came to get up properly.

 _‘But... um... Yuuno-kun?_ ’

 _‘Hmm?_ ’

 _‘Arisa-chan and Suzuka-chan are still mad at me..._ ’

Ah, yes. He’d forgotten about that little detail.

... drat.

...

The flurry, clamour and chaos of packing for a week-long trip for five people was thoroughly disconcerting to Yuuno, accustomed as he was to travelling relatively light and using magic to help with transport. After the second time he narrowly escaped being shut in a suitcase for the duration of the journey there, he retreated into Nanoha’s room and hid under her pillow, with only a pair of dark green eyes and a small bump in the fabric revealing his presence. He stayed there stubbornly, refusing to come out, for most of the following day, even as the suitcases disappeared from the room and the frantic activity around the house stilled.

He was only drawn reluctantly out of his safe haven a little after noon, when Nanoha’s voice called up from downstairs. “Yuuno-kun! Come on, we’re leaving!”

After a few moments non-activity on his part, brisk footsteps sounded up the stairs and her brown-topped head poked through the door.

“Yuuno-kun...” Nanoha sighed in exasperation, “come out. We’re leaving! It’s okay, all the bags are packed away in the cars.” She tried to coax the ferret from his pillow-cocoon, receiving only a few tufts of shed hair for her trouble.

 _‘Yuuno!’_ she snapped in mild irritation, hands on hips. _‘Come out of there right now! We need to leave soon, or we won’t make it to the hot springs before it gets dark!_ ’

“Nanoha?” came her mother’s voice from downstairs.

“Coming, mama!” she replied, and threw an impatient glare at Yuuno, who grudgingly slunk out of the artificial den. She picked him up gently, despite her irritation at the wait.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him, allowing him to scamper up onto her shoulder. “Though you took your time.”

 _‘I was nearly shut in two suitcases and a picnic basket,’_ came the flat reply. _It was safer under there._ ’

Nanoha frowned. ' _But there would have been food in the picnic basket_ ,' she thought.

Yuuno gave her a level-gazed green stare. ' _Yes. And also heavy plates. On top of me._ '

 _‘Oh. Um. It’s lucky you escaped?_ ’

The lack of reply seemed distinctly put out, somehow.

Once they got moving, however, the ferret’s mildly traumatised sulk faded soon enough, and an hour into the journey he was happily sitting on Suzuka’s lap, enjoying the attention of all three girls. Arisa and Suzuka seemed to have silently agreed to leave any irritation or arguments behind for the duration of the holiday, and a weight seemed to lift from Nanoha’s shoulders as she laughed and chattered with her friends, the scenery blurring past the car windows as they sped down the motorway. Kyouya, Miyuki, Shinobu and the maids followed behind them in a second car - they had far too many people to fit into one - and Momoko was busy map-reading for Shiro, so Nanoha was left with plenty of time to think. Leaving Yuuno to Arisa and Suzuka, she turned to stare out of the window, gaze skipping from one lamppost to another, imagining a black mage-girl leaping from one to the next.

 _‘Nanoha?_ ’

Well-practiced by now, she didn’t flinch at Yuuno’s inquiring voice. _‘Hmm?_ ’

 _‘You are going to make sure you take it easy this weekend, right? Nothing strenuous. Your injuries still haven’t fully healed._ ’

 _‘I promised, Yuuno-kun,’_ she replied calmly. _‘I’m intending to relax and have fun on this trip. Nothing more. Nothing less._ ’

 _‘I just... worry._ ’

 _‘I know.’_ She turned to smile at him. _‘It’s nice to know you care so much. But you really don’t need to, this time. There’s nothing to worry about._ ’

 _‘... alright._ ’

...

“Ahhh!” The ardent exclamation echoed from all three girls at once as they stared at the hot spring. Smooth, pale stone tiles surrounded the pool and wisps of steam formed a thin layer over the clear water. There were more inside, of course, ones that had been specially set up for bathing. This, however, was the first of the many springs in the area that visitors entering the resort saw, and the simple elegance of its design was chosen specifically to welcome and invite customers in.

“It looks so good! I can’t wait to get inside!” Arisa grinned, impulsively grabbing Suzuka and Nanoha by the hands. “Come on, let’s go ahead and get ready!” Momoko and Shiro traded smiles as they watched the girls race off up the path towards reception, following along at a more leisurely pace to check in. Behind them, Kyouya, Miyuki, Shinobu and the maids started unpacking the cars, following them in with bags and suitcases.

Curled around Nanoha’s neck like a living scarf, Yuuno weathered the unpacking with no more than a mild shudder when he saw the ill-fated picnic basket that had almost trapped him. Unfortunately, he neglected to take into account how this position might make him vulnerable to less easily evaded torments until just a little too late.

 _‘N-Nanoha... I really d-don’t think I should b-be in here...’_ he stammered, keeping his eyes determinedly fixed on the wall in front of him and his back turned on the room full of scantily-clad girls changing for a soak in the pools. This was _not_ according to plan. He’d almost have preferred another round with the picnic basket.

 _‘Huh?_ Nanoha’s voice was distracted, occupied as she was with disrobing. _‘Why not?’_ Footsteps padded over to him, and somewhere across the room Miyuki squealed to the accompaniment of Arisa’s mischievous giggles. Yuuno blocked his ears and tried to ignore the laughter and movements behind him.

 _‘Come on, Yuuno-kun,_ demanded Nanoha impatiently, _‘you can come in with me.’_ A hand closed on his tail, giving it a teasing tug, and he turned. Even as he completed the motion, he realised what a monumentally stupid idea it was, and cursed himself for a fool. Too late, however; he had already caught an eyeful. Mercifully, Nanoha was wrapped in a towel, hair falling loose around her shoulders and a light flush on her face from the heat in the air.

Immediately behind her, Shinobu was leaning forward slightly to unstrap her b-b-br...

Sporting a crimson blush vivid enough to be seen through his fur, Yuuno whirled back round, eyes screwed shut and hair standing on end. Frantically, he searched his memory for a rough layout of the room, aimed vaguely towards where he thought the door was, and bolted. Two painful impacts with the wall illustrated his bad aim, and he only escaped from Nanoha’s lunging grab at him because of the warning cry of “Yuuno-kun, come back here!” she gave as she made it. His third blind dash for freedom, however, struck gold, and he squirmed through the slight crack between the sliding doors of the changing room and poured on the speed until he ran face-first into a fourth and very final wall. Behind him, muted by the closed door, he could faintly hear Nanoha bemoaning his flight, but thankfully neither she nor any of the others seemed inclined to pursue him.

After lying still for a moment, until the pain receded somewhat and the world stopped revolving, he judged himself safe in opening his eyes, and did so. A quick look around verified that there were no nearly-naked women in the vicinity. Or indeed anyone else. A more detailed look brought him to the secondary conclusion that he had no idea where he was.

Well. Drat.

Hearing male voices from nearby, Yuuno came to the somewhat dazed conclusion that any bearing was better than none, and started towards them, keeping a wary eye out for any more attempts to grab him. Moving in a slightly dazed wobble, it nonetheless only took him a minute or two to locate the source of the voices, and he pawed the sliding door open far enough to slip through with a strained squeak. Both residents of the hot pool turned to look at the source of the interruption.

“Isn’t that Nanoha’s ferret?” asked Shiro, looking over at the little tan-brown creature. Kyouya squinted a little to see through the steam, and nodded.

“Think so, yeah. What’s it doing here, though?”

Shiro shrugged, shifting in the pool slightly. The movement turned him further into Yuuno’s line of sight, and the ferret stifled a gasp. The man’s chest was a _mass_ of scar tissue. A huge scar stretched down one side of his torso, crisscrossed by smaller lines of surgery, as an ugly reminder of what must have been a _horrific_ injury - easily enough to put him at death’s door. On the other side, a wide blotchy patch spoke of either a huge bullet or, more likely, some sort of explosive round. In all honesty, looking at the sheer scope of the marks, Yuuno was astonished the man was still alive. Picturing the size and severity of the damage as it must have been when it was inflicted... he shivered at the sickening testament to the deadliness of mass-based weaponry. He’d only ever seen this before in digs, on long-dead bodies, piecing together causes of death from long-dried bones. Which, now that he came to think about it, were rather often related to the barbaric tendency for Belkan weapons to include mass-based features. That was one of the most distasteful elements of that now-extinct polity, in his opinion; much as he enjoyed the challenge of excavating ancient battlefields, he couldn’t help but think of the wastefulness of the slaughter - especially when the Belkans had possessed magic, which meant that they didn’t need to kill.

 _‘N-Nanoha?_ ’

 _‘Hmm? Why’d you run off? And where are you? Arisa-chan’s annoyed, she wanted to pet you! And she’s really hard to calm down, too...’_ Nanoha’s voice was preoccupied but content, though marked by a certain tinge of frustrated exasperation at her blonde friend.

Had Yuuno been thinking more clearly, he would likely have refrained from asking, or at the very least put it off until another time. But too many shocks in one day had sapped his wits and blunted his words, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

 _‘What happened to your father? I’ve only ever seen wounds like that on dead bodies!_ ’

A long silence followed. He could almost _hear_ the frigid cold spreading down the telepathic link as Nanoha’s mind turned to ice and glass, and it slowly occurred to him that he probably couldn’t have phrased that any worse if he’d _tried_.

 _‘Nanoha, I-_ ’

 _‘A long time ago, papa was a bodyguard,’_ Nanoha said quietly. Her mental voice was subdued, hesitant. A far cry from the happy, blissful tones she’d responded with only a moment ago. _‘He was very brave, and very skilled at what he did. Nobody he guarded ever got hurt, and anyone who tried to attack them, he’d subdue quickly and easily._ ’

Despite himself, Yuuno was fascinated. He could hear the latent pain in Nanoha’s voice, but her soft voice telling the story made it sound so interesting, and he was learning things about the man sitting a few feet away that he’d never so much as suspected. Even so, he fervently wished he hadn’t brought the subject up.

 _‘But his work made him enemies, and his clients were all very high profile, with a lot of enemies of their own. Eventually, one of the groups who opposed him got lucky. The only thing people ever said was that he was injured “in the line of duty”._ ’ 

Quietly, at the back of his mind, the part of Yuuno that harboured his guilt over dragging Nanoha into the conflict over the Jewel Seeds, already on edge due to her hospitalisation, began to emit a steadily rising wail.

 _‘He was put in hospital by the injuries. He-’_ Nanoha’s voice hitched, _‘he was so badly hurt. Miyuki-chan stayed with him all day, sitting by his bedside, begging him to get better. Mama and Kyouya were stretched to their limit working at the shop to cover our finances. For the longest time, we weren’t sure if he’d ever fully recover._ ’

The wail was now a scream, splitting the back of his head open and making him feel awful for dredging all this up. He noted one point in curiosity, though, and followed the line of inquiry before he could stop himself.

 _‘Where were you during this?_ ’

Another silence. He winced, realising he’d inadvertently prodded another painful topic, and decided firmly to _shut up_ from here on in.

 _‘... I was fine. I mostly spent that time alone at home. It... it’s a good thing, I guess. It’s why I can take care of myself, right? And... everyone else was so busy. I couldn’t ask them to look after me, not when they had so many more important things to do. I wasn’t going to be a deadweight on them._ ’

Yuuno didn’t know what to say. How _could_ he respond to that? He waited, half in anticipation, half in dread, to see if she would continue.

She didn’t. Unsure of whether to be disappointed or relieved, and mostly just feeling guilty, Yuuno returned his uneasy attention to the bath in front of him. Shiro and Kyouya were reclining in companionable silence in the hot water, letting the heat soak into their bones.

“So,” said Shiro laconically, breaking the quiet, “how is Shinobu?” Kyouya jerked, head whipping round to stare nervously at his father. Shiro’s eyes stayed closed, though, and he didn’t move from his relaxed posture, leaning against the side of the tub.

“Um... good. She’s... doing fine. Happy to be here with m- us.”

“Good, good.” Shiro’s tone was utterly composed, as if he were talking about the weather, or what was for supper that evening. “She’s a fine young woman. Your choice in friends is laudable.”

“Uh... yes. Yes, I’m... glad to know her. She’s an amazing person.” Kyouya looked distinctly unsettled, though he was trying with limited success not to show it. His father hadn’t moved an inch, and was still wearing the same blithe, unconcerned expression he had started the conversation with. Yuuno watched with a kind of mild awe at the ease with which the man was controlling the conversation.

“Well, I’m glad the two of you are getting along so well.” Shiro cracked an eye open and smiled at his son. “Though I must say, we’re seeing less and less of you both. I think this is the first time Momoko and I have been in the same room as her for over a month. Why not invite her along for supper? I’m sure your mother wouldn’t mind cooking a little extra, and we’d like to get to know your friends a little better.”

“Ah... okay? Yeah, that... that sounds like a good idea. I’ll ask her.”

Shiro nodded paternally. “Wonderful. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get out of this heat before I fall asleep.” He stretched, yawning slightly as he did so, and climbed out. Pausing at the door, he glanced back at Kyouya.

“Oh, and... son?” he said, tilting his head. "Did you bring... you know?" He raised his eyebrows, and twisted his head slightly. Kyouya blushed bright crimson, outshining even the flush caused by the heat of the bath. Attempting to look anywhere other than at Shiro, he gave a minute nod.

“Good boy.” The door slid shut quietly, and Kyouya let out a faint groan of mortification and dunked his head under the water, possibly to try and drown himself to erase the embarrassment. Wincing in sympathy, Yuuno quietly backed out of the room and left him to it.

...

The soft susurrus of birdsong and rustling leaves provided a pleasant background to the wash of water against the banks of the river and Shiro’s quiet whistling as he walked along the riverside. There was barely a cloud in the sky, and the cerulean blue stood vibrant above the treetops as the warm rays of the sun beat down. He closed his eyes and took a happy breath of fresh air, revelling in the peace and tranquillity of the place.

Opening his eyes again as he rounded a bend in the river, he was unsurprised to come across Momoko, sitting comfortably on a fallen log a few yards downstream from a low bridge and watching the river flow past. She looked up as he approached, greeting him with a warm smile. He took a seat next to her, and they observed the burbling water in comfortable silence for a while.

“I spoke to Kyouya,” he said eventually. “They’re being careful.”

“Good. I thought they were, but it’s best to be sure about these things.”

“How serious is he about her, would you say?”

She smiled again, maternally. “Very. More than he knows, at the moment. I’m proud of him. He’s incredibly responsible for his age.” A sideways glance with lidded eyes, “He’s a lot like his father in that sense.”

“He’s certainly doing well teaching Miyuki,” he mused, letting the compliment pass without comment. “She’s getting better by the day, and he’s learning a lot from teaching her - things he never really thought about when he was the one learning them. Soon she’ll be good enough for me to take over her training.”

“How long, would you say?”

“Hmm,” he considered, “a few months, perhaps? It depends on whether or not she keeps to the learning curve she’s been sticking to during her training so far. I’m mostly worried about Nanoha, to be honest.”

“Yes, she has _something_ going on. I’m not entirely sure what, but it started suddenly a little while ago. She’s been...”

“Quiet,” he offered, “reticent. Secretive.”

“Yes, exactly. And she’s been sneaking off in the evenings... I’m more than a little worried. Especially with whatever put her in hospital.”

“She’s not going to tell us, though. Not without some huge impulse prompting her to.”

Momoko sighed. “Yes, I know. She’s too independent, sometimes. She’s trying to handle it herself, rather than bring it to our attention.” She hummed softly, thinking. “If we try to push her on it, though...”

“She’s as likely to clam up and pull away as she is to tell us, I know. What would you suggest, then?”

The wind rustled the boughs of the trees above them as she thought, leaning back and closing her eyes. Shiro waited patiently, gaze tracing over her face with soft affection, watching a strand of hair fallen over her mouth flutter as she breathed slowly in and out, mulling it over. He didn’t try to rush her - whatever opinion she gave, she would give it when she was ready and not a moment sooner.

Eventually, she opened her eyes and nodded decisively. “I say we let her work it out on her own. For now. If any more... events, like the hospital, occur, then we move in and take action. Until then, I’m for keeping an eye on her and allowing her to deal with it as she sees fit. I’d prefer to see her come to us over it, if it’s something important, but... unless she actively does so herself, I think pushing her into it would do more harm than good.”

She paused, thinking. After a moment, she nodded again, “That’s my opinion. She’s a big girl, we can afford her a certain measure of trust.”

Shiro smiled in amusement, “I thought you might say that,” he chuckled, before growing serious once more. “I think you’re right. I don’t like leaving her to her own devices in a situation like this, but with no information, anything we try might make the problem worse.” He scowled, annoyed at his relative powerlessness in the situation. Momoko laid a gentle hand on his, a wordless message of calm.

“You’ve taught her well, by example. As have I. Have faith in your daughter, she’s able to fight her own battles.” A slight expression of worry crossed her face, but only for a moment. “Of course, I’d prefer it if she wasn’t fighting them at the age of _nine_ , but...”

“Maybe she just needs to do something wrong,” Shiro said, slowly, his attention distracted. “She's always been such a good girl, trying so hard. Maybe this is just a little rebellion and we're not used to it.”

“Shiro.” He blinked and looked up at his wife. “Trust her. This is a holiday. Relax, forget about the issue.” Her lips quirked in a grin, “Have some fun.”

After a moment’s silence, he nodded, accepting the unspoken order to stop worrying at the issue. Searching for another topic of conversation, he looked around curiously. “Why this spot, specifically?”

“It just feels... comfortable. Like it's waiting for something. And there weren't any bushes around, and the grass looked soft.” The smile on Momoko’s lips became a smirk. One that could only be described as sultry. “And it’s far enough from the bathhouse that any sound won’t carry, and some way off the beaten track.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow again, taking in the sultry smile, the light, figure-hugging dress she was wearing and the gleam in her eye.

“Well then,” he said, a matching grin forming, “I suppose, in lieu of worrying, I best find some way to keep myself occupied.”

Arms slid around his neck, pulling him down to the grass.

“I think I can come up with something.”

...

Cheeks flushed and hair damp, Nanoha yawned widely as she left the changing room, clad once again in a light yukata. Similarly Arisa and Suzuka padded along beside her, slippered feet producing soft footfalls on the smooth wooden floor of the corridor. Stretching, Arisa yawned widely and giggled.

“Ahhh... this feels so good!” she exulted, “What should we do next? Ping-pong?” She looked around eagerly, as if expecting to see a table already set up for their use around the next corner, or standing outside on the stone paving of the patio.

“Ping-pong?” Suzuka hummed thoughtfully. “Eh... I really wanted to go check out the souvenirs...”

“Suzuka-chan, you always buy the souvenirs. They’re not even high-quality, they’re just tacky junk!”

The purple-haired girl looked reproachfully at her blonde friend. “Well... I still like them! They’re pretty, and they give character to a place. You haven’t really visited somewhere till you’ve bought the souvenirs home. Nanoha, which do you want to do, ping-pong or souvenir shopping?”

Arisa would likely have retorted, and Nanoha was about to add her point of view, when they were abruptly interrupted.

“Ahhh! So _you’re_ Nanoha! You look just like she said!”

Three heads turned in bemusement to the source of the outburst. And stared.

The first adjective that sprang to mind was ‘tall’. The woman towered over them, clad in a white yukata with a simple brown star pattern. Looking up at her, the second and third adjectives to occur were both ‘busty’, and Nanoha found herself privately wondering how on Earth the strange woman was supporting those without overbalancing.

Her hair was a pale orange, and a red gem rested at the centre of her forehead - some kind of religious symbol, Nanoha assumed. The woman smiled, her canines flashing bright white against red lips, and Nanoha belatedly processed her comment.

“... eh?” she said eloquently, “... I look... like..."

' _What, you don't remember? Strange. I would have thought injuries like that would be hard to forget._ '

Nanoha froze as the foreign voice spoke into her mind. The woman’s eyes gleamed feral blue, and Nanoha felt a chill go up her spine. There was no need to ask further, it was suddenly all too clear who the woman was referring to.

“... ohh,” she breathed, eyes widening. “Is... is she related to you? We... ah... didn’t get very much time to talk.”

 _‘Why are you here?’_ she sent, scrabbling to keep up with both sides of the conversation - the innocent, verbal replies that her friends could hear, and the darker undertone of telepathy. _‘Is she nearby? What do you want here?_ ’

The woman smiled, affecting a casual, unconcerned air. “I’m her guardian, technically,” she replied, obliquely answering Nanoha’s verbal and telepathic questions in the same breath. “We’re in the area for something else, and she thought she saw you, so she asked me if I could take a look and carry a message - she’s very busy at the moment, lots to do. Anyway, she just wanted to let you know she was sorry for having to run off so quickly. Maybe next time, hmm?”

Her mental voice took a softer tone, almost kind. _‘She also wants to apologise for using so much force. Please understand, we can't accept failure in our mission. There's no need to be alarmed at our presence, we're just doing a routine search of the area, looking for any dormant Lost Logia. We haven't found any yet, so you have nothing to worry about._ ' Her eyes flashed in the light and narrowed as a hint of threat crept back into her manner. ' _So stay out of our affairs, and we'll stay out of yours._ '

Nanoha gulped. “Ah... yes. Maybe next time. Um... if there is a next time. Uh... one more thing? I- I don’t think I ever caught her name?”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Hmm? Haha, such a silly girl. Ah well, I’ll let her introduce herself, if the two of you meet again. She waved cheerfully, strolling away, and disappeared around a corner.

All three girls stared after her for a moment or two, still slightly stunned at the abrupt, seemingly random encounter. Arisa was the first to recover her voice.

“... Nanoha.” Her tone was mildly confused, with a tinge of ire, “Who was that? Was she drunk or something? Who on Earth just randomly walks up to complete strangers and starts talking?!” A vein throbbed in her forehead as she continued ranting, “And how did she know you? Who’s the ‘she’ were you two talking about? What’s going on?” Despite the phrasing, there was no doubt that the fiery blonde wouldn’t tolerate Nanoha trying to evade an answer.

Nanoha looked between the two faces - Suzuka’s, curious and mildly concerned, and Arisa’s, annoyed and impatient. She laughed nervously, one hand straying up behind her neck in faint embarrassment as she thought fast. Quickly running through her options, she concluded that her best bet was the truth. Well, some of it.

“I met... a girl,” she said carefully. “A little while ago. She was...”

_Blonde hair blew back in two vivid streamers, blazingly bright ribbons against the dull, monochrome surroundings. Deep red eyes looked piercingly at and through her, boring into her soul. The black metal of the staff seemed to suck in the light around it, a hole cut into a starless sky, with a single golden eye blazing hard and dispassionate at its head. It lowered, ominously, and crackling yellow light gathered at its head before leaping out at her like a striking snake, fangs bared and accompanied by the terrifying hissing crack of a lightning bolt splitting the skies..._

“... powerful. Forceful. Very... driven.”

There was a pause as both girls absorbed this with dubious expressions. Nanoha was still staring off into the mists of memory, and thus missed the slow, terrible look of realisation that spread over Arisa’s face, like the gradual, unstoppable shift of a burgeoning landslide. This was unfortunate, because much like a landslide, Arisa’s realisations tended to be somewhat indiscriminate and overwhelming for anything that got caught in their way.

“Nanoha... have- have you got a _crush?!_ ”

“Wh-what? No!”

“Ha! You’re lying!” Arisa scowled further, “How dare you get a crush on someone without introducing her to me! Who is she? And how did you not even get her name?”

Desperately seeking an escape route, Nanoha turned to Suzuka, only to be met by a disappointed frown. “I’d like to meet this girl too, Nanoha-chan. You could have at least told us about her. Why keep her a secret?”

“But... look, it was just a chance meeting! I don’t have a crush!” A vaguely nauseated look passed over her face. “Anyway, I'm _nine_. Crushes aren't till... later.” At least, she thought so. Certainly, they seemed to come somewhere before Kyouya's age, given that he was dating Shinobu. When they started, she was less certain on, but she was fairly sure it wasn't _this_ early. “Anyway," she added after a moment’s thought, “... she's a _girl_. Girls get crushes on boys, not girls.” She nodded, secure in her logic.

Arisa narrowed her eyes, advancing half a step forward, finger prodding at Nanoha to emphasise her words. “Is she a bad influence? Has she been pressuring you into things?” She stepped back in shock. “Did she give you _alcohol?_ Force you to drink? Or smoke?!” She grabbed Nanoha’s shoulders and stared at her intensely, as if she would be able to see traces of either on her friend’s face.

“Arisa! No! Stop it!” Nanoha tried to wriggle free, flailing her arms to bat away the stubborn blonde’s hands and backing away. Arisa followed, lunging at her again, and Nanoha dodged to the left. Executing a particularly dexterous manoeuvre which left Arisa hanging on grimly to Suzuka’s arm and Suzuka standing on Arisa’s foot, she trotted away down the corridor before they got themselves sorted out.

“I think I left Yuuno-kun back near the baths!” she called back as she made her escape, “Go on without me, I’ll go get him then catch up with you two later.”

Arisa and Suzuka stared after her in annoyance. “She’s definitely up to something,” said Arisa, in tones of fervent conviction. She slapped a fist into her palm.

Suzuka nodded, frowning in irritation. “But how do we get her to tell us what it is?”

Arisa gained a speculative look.

“No,” said Suzuka, before she could voice the idea. “Whatever it is, no.”

Arisa pouted. “Fine. Then I say we give her a few days to calm down, then confront her about it. And guilt-trip her.”

“... that could work.”

“It had better.” The blonde gritted her teeth, fists clenching in frustration. “It’s driving me crazy, knowing she’s up to something - probably dangerous -and not being able to do anything about it.”

Suzuka tilted her head, considering. Purple locks fell across her face, and she absently brushed them aside. “Well,” she ventured, “she didn’t deny _knowing_ whoever this ‘she’ person is. Maybe we should let her parents know about it?”

“... huh. Good idea.” Arisa grinned, happy to have found something to do, some way to act. “Let’s go!”

...

Later that night, Nanoha lay awake long into the night. She had barely registered the story Farin had told before bed, and the soft breathing from Arisa and Suzuka, to either side of her, went unheard. She wasn’t sure what time it was, other than ‘way, way after bedtime’. Sleep wouldn’t come, though. Too many thoughts bounced around her head, refusing to die down and give her the peace of slumber.

_She was here._

That scared her, if she was perfectly honest with herself. The girl had been terrifyingly fast and powerful, and her ribs and back throbbed painfully just at the memory of the blast that had felled her. What was the girl doing here? That woman had said they were scouting the area, looking for Jewel Seeds. What did they need them for? So many unknowns... Nanoha shifted restlessly, dislodging Yuuno from his place resting against her cheek.

_She apologised._

Granted, by proxy, but still. That was... confusing. She really didn’t know how to feel about that. It confirmed her initial guess that the girl was a good person at heart, but... in that case, was it right to fight against her? Should she take the woman’s advice, and just keep her nose out of the Jewel Seeds from now on? Should she stop?

...

 _Could_ she stop?

People could be hurt by the Jewel Seeds. It was a minor miracle that, so far, people hadn’t _been_ hurt by them. Property damage was all that had been inflicted so far, but how long would that last? Didn’t she have a duty, an obligation, to put whatever effort she could muster into protecting her home and her fellow citizens? What right did she have _not_ to fight? Power brought with in the implicit acceptance of using it responsibility, and for the cause of good. Otherwise, she had always been taught, you didn’t deserve to have it in the first place. Even as it was, she hadn’t _earned_ the magic she wielded so easily - hadn’t worked for it like her father and brother and sister did with their fighting and training. She had been handed it on a silver platter, and what, so far, had she done with it? Her fight with the dark-clad girl had clearly shown that however much gifted she might be, she certainly wasn’t living up to it in action and deed.

Would her family be proud of her if they knew she had this potential, this talent, and was wasting it? Would they support her in walking away from it, squandering her abilities? She chewed her lip thoughtfully, mulling it over.

 _‘Nanoha?’_ Yuuno, apparently woken by her restless tossing and turning, nudged at her cheek. _‘What’s wrong?_ ’

 _‘... I met a- a woman, today._ ’

There was a pause. Yuuno, as far as he was able to with the somewhat limited facial expressions of a ferret, looked confused.

 _‘Um... I’m not sure I-_ ’

 _‘She was magical! Uh- that is... she could use telepathy. And she’s connected to... to that girl. Her guardian, she said. She was... um...’_ Nanoha considered. ‘Threatening’ wasn’t the word she wanted to use, but it rang fairly close to the woman’s attitude. Still, something made her choose her words more carefully. _‘... intimidating. She said they were in the area looking for Jewel Seeds, and that... that we should - well, **I** should - stay out of their way. Um. And also said that the girl apologised for using so much force on me, and that she was sorry she had to do it, but that she couldn’t risk failing her mission._ ’

Yuuno stiffened at the first sentence, and bristled further as Nanoha kept talking. He seemed to calm down slightly as she finished, though, and his oval eyes narrowed in thought, giving his face a sleek, aquiline look. _‘When was this?’_ he demanded.

 _‘Uh... just after we left the baths.’_ She shot him a faintly accusing look. _‘ **You** had run away, or you’d’ve been there._ ’

 _‘Tell me **exactly** what happened,’ _ he said, ignoring the accusation, and listened as Nanoha stumbled over a more complete explanation haltingly, stopping her a few times to ask for clarification.

 _‘What are they doing here, though?_ he asked, once she had finished. _‘Scouting the area... I’m not sure I believe that. Or that she ‘just happened’ to catch sight of you, and recognise you.’_ He hummed quietly in thought as Nanoha’s eyes widened, having not considered that. He was right, though. The chances of the girl happening across her by sheer chance, while searching for something entirely different, were astronomical.

 _‘Nanoha... listen,’_ Yuuno’s voice took on a serious tone, and he faced her determinedly. Insofar as she could read his body language, he looked resolute and faintly guilty. _‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, these past couple of weeks, and...’_ his eyes flickered to her chest, and her still-bandaged ribs under them, _‘with this latest revelation that she’s apparently... stalking you, maybe ever coming back to finish you off, I think you should-_ ’

 _‘Yuuno!’_ Nanoha’s voice was fierce, her eyes flashing angrily as she sat up, _‘Don’t even think of telling me to stop!_ ’

 _‘It-_ ’

 _‘If she’s stalking me, then she won’t cease to do so just because I stop going after the Jewel Seeds! She might even decide she doesn’t trust me, and make sure I can’t! And the Jewel Seeds themselves won’t stop activating if I step down - and don’t pretend for a minute that you can seal them on your own, any more than I could! We’re partners, Yuuno, and I’m protecting my home by doing this! It’s the right thing to do! I’m not going to stop just because it’s dangerous, and you can’t make me!_ ’

A brief silence fell, as both mages considered this last point.

 _‘... **technically** , I could just bind you to the floor every time a Jewel Seed activated, and put a barrier around Raising Heart to stop you activating it,’ _Yuuno pointed out.

Nanoha shot him a withering glance. _‘You wouldn’t dare._ ’

There was an awkward silence.

A tinge of uncertainty flickered across her face, a slight edge of nervousness entered her voice. _‘You... wouldn’t dare. Right?_ ’

Yuuno relented. _‘... no. No, I wouldn’t.’_ He could see it in her face, much as he hated it. She _needed_ this, needed to be useful, needed to be doing something important. Needed a _purpose_. Looking at this amazing, vibrant girl, so full of potential that it almost terrified him to think of what she could become... it was all too easy to see her losing her way, becoming quiet and withdrawn, unable to find a purpose that called to her, kept from her true place in the world. A bird with the potential to soar through the heavens, kept crippled on the ground with broken wings.

He shuddered. The only way she would learn to fly, though, was if he let her out of the nest. She had a point, much as he didn’t like it. He couldn’t seal the Jewel Seeds on his own - the very first one had taught him that lesson. Painfully. It had taken Nanoha to rescue him from that, picking up a Device for the first time in her life after responding to his weakened telepathic cry for help. And within seconds of doing so, she had destroyed the monster and sealed the Seed.

And now that he thought about it, they had only gotten more powerful since then. The tree, the cat... both were far stronger than the first one. Perhaps it was just that they had warped pre-existing things, rather than creating a form from whole cloth, but instinct told him that there was something more. Regardless, it was at least certain that he had no chance of sealing the remainder of the Jewel Seeds without Nanoha’s help. For all that she was a civilian, an innocent; with no responsibility or duty to risk her life in lending aid... he had no choice but to ask it of her, and for no reward or recompense.

Hanging his head in shame, he acceded. _‘... alright. I... you’re right. And I can’t thank you enough for your help, I couldn’t... I don’t know how to... I..._ ’

A warm hand on his head cut off his fumbling attempts at expressing his gratitude. Looking up, he felt like he was staring into a sunbeam as Nanoha smiled happily at him, her whole face lighting up.

 _‘It’s okay, Yuuno-kun. I’m doing this because I want to, okay? Don’t worry. Together, we can face anything._ ’

After a moment of stunned silence, his eyes slowly creased upwards in a smile, and he began to return the sentiment.

 _‘Yeah. As long as we work together, nothing is too-_ ’

The sharp chill, like ice and glass slicing through the core of him, cut off his optimistic reply with all the suddenness and finality of an executioner’s axe. From the widening of Nanoha’s eyes, and the choked gasp she let out, she had felt it too.

Somewhere in the forests around the resort, another Jewel Seed had activated.

...

The cool wash of the water sounded loud in the silence of the night. It played against the banks and over the bumps and dips in the riverbed. Above it, the tree boughs swayed in the breeze and the leaves rustled gently in an ever-present low murmur.

Fate and Arf sat on the bridge, watching the humming Jewel Seed in the water below. While it was tempting to try to seal it now, its harmless appearance was deceptive. It was undergoing the last cycle of drawing in ambient magic before it activated - any more power now would only give them a harder fight. As it began to glow, Fate stood, balancing effortlessly on the narrow handrail.

“Bardiche,” she said, tonelessly.

Golden radiance blossomed, and enveloped her with wings of storm and lightning. The familiar, comfortable feel of her Barrier Jacket clothed her, and her magic swirled within her, exultant at the chance to be used again. As the brief burst of euphoria faded, she felt Arf put up a barrier, shielding them away from any outside interference.

As she touched down, clad in her Barrier Jacket and with the comforting heft of Bardiche calming her with its cool presence in her right hand, she looked at the enemy she faced, which was just finishing its own transformation. Eyes narrowing, she sunk into a combat stance, ready to move, and awaited its first move, aware out of the corner of her eye of Arf doing the same thing.

It was like nothing she had ever seen before. Seventy seven perfect, flawless orbs of solid ice, each the size of a human head, orbited in a wide sphere, refracting and reflecting moonlight in unpredictable patterns as they moved with no apparent means of propulsion through the air. They cast a soft radiance as well, emanating from the core, a pastel glow of blue-violet that mirrored the Jewel Seed from which they had come.

At the heart of the sphere, a central ring of seven - these ones deeper, darker, their colour the navy-indigo tint of a rainbow’s trailing edge- span in a ring around the Jewel Seed. It shone in the dim light, a malevolent radiance illuminating the surrounding area for hundreds of yards with a light that cast no shadows. It was balanced at the exact centre of both sphere and ring, on a fountain of boiling water that steamed and-

... no. Wait. Fate’s eyes widened as she took in the scant droplets falling off the edges of the flute-like column of liquid, which turned to ice as they fell and flash-froze chunks the size of a fist when they hit the river water. That wasn’t heat, it was _cold_. A cold so intense that steam was flaring from the surface as water vapour in the air condensed into freezing mist, while the fountain itself crackled and hissed as the super-cooled water fought to solidify, only to be effortlessly forced to keep flowing by the power it bore aloft.

Kept tense by anticipation, Fate waited for it to make its move. But it didn’t. It merely hung in the air, orbs floating in their predetermined paths around it, the soft hum of their movement adding a counterpoint to the rush of the river and the rustle of the leaves.

“... hmm,” noted Fate, when it became clear that the thing wasn’t going to attack.

“Shouldn’t it be... I dunno, frozen solid, at that temperature?” asked Arf. “I mean, it’s freezing the river where the droplets land, so-”

She caught the flat look that Fate cast at her, and rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, her canines flashing as she grinned. “Oh, right. Jewel Seed. Gotcha.”

Fate considered the Seed again, eyes roaming over it in evaluation. “It’s still unstable,” she decided, “not yet at full power.” Bardiche came up in a two-handed centre grip, solid and simple, easy to adapt both to offense or defence. “Cover me. I’m sealing it.”

“Ahh! Of course, Fate-chan! I’m sure you’ll have no trouble!”

Phantom fingers traced her skin as she faced it, delicately probing every inch of the surrounding area. She supposed this served as the thing’s senses. Setting Bardiche into sealing form, its blade locking out into the glaive configuration and four wings of light bursting from just beneath its head, she decided to start off light and test the Seed’s defences with a probing attack before she really committed herself.

Setting off at a run to her right, along the bridge railing, she let loose a volley of lightning - a simple spell, low power. She didn’t really expect it to work, merely to show her the kind of defence she would need to get past to seal the thing.

She was startled, therefore, by the sheer _vehemence_ of the response. With a screech like fingernails down a blackboard, the sapphire blaze resting on the fountain pulsed, and the nearby orbs in the outer shell contracted to block her lightning, which scattered harmlessly off them. As quickly as they had clustered together to form a shield, they flew apart again, as if pulled by springs back into their geometric places in the sphere. Just in time to let the counterattack through. A volley of razor-edged ice shards whipped out at her, blurring through the air and slicing clean holes through the trees and soil they hit as she dodged.

“Fast,” she muttered in surprise, and fired another volley of Photon Lancers to draw its attention. While effective as a shield, its clustering of the orbs in one place to defend itself opened gaps in the rest of the shell. If she could move fast enough, she could exploit the weakness to get an unblocked attack on the central ring - perhaps even the Jewel Seed itself. Bracing herself as the golden projectiles arced in, she prepared to move...

A sharp, staccato series of cracks split the air as the fountain spat a dozen or more pellets of super-cooled water on improbably curving trajectories. Fate’s eyes widened in brief horror as they intercepted her shots, blasting into and _through_ the fragile balls of contained lightning only to continue homing in on her.

The Seed wasn’t finished through. With a blinding flash, another volley of ice-shards shot out. But this was no loosely-knit reactive counterattack. This was a wide spray, at chest-height, that covered at least a sixty degree arc in either direction. The shards were closely packed, too, leaving her nowhere to dodge and no way to avoid the dense spray of lethal ice.

Hissing in a mixture of fear and frustration, Fate willed golden wings into existence at her ankles, and desperately threw herself upwards. Just in time, as the deadly hail scythed through where she had been standing scant fractions of a second before.

“Arf!” she barked, half order, half cry for help.

Orange chains came to her rescue, dozens of them lashing out and wrapping around the orbs in the outer shell, anchoring them to the ground in three or four different places, then pulling taut to prevent them from moving. Evidently, Arf had made good use of the time the Seed had spent focusing on Fate.

It did not react well. A screech of anger cut the air to no avail, as Fate soared upwards. Snapping Bardiche into its scythe form, she plummeted from the heavens, a crackling, blazing blade of energy slicing down in a lethal blow towards the undefended Jewel Seed.

Had she not been focusing intently on her target, and by proxy the area directly under it, she might have missed the boiling of the water below it. As it was, she _barely_ managed to throw herself out of the way as the river...

... erupted.

A pillar of frozen water slammed skywards, propelled with terrible force as the Jewel Seed shrieked in fear. Spikes, hammer-blow chunks and solid panes of ice flew up around the central ring, and then exploded outward in a furore of violence.

Outside the outer sphere, Fate skidded to a halt, eyes wide and face pale, breathing harshly from panic and exertion. Turning, she warily regarded the spinning ring of deep indigo orbs orbiting the Jewel Seed as the blocks and pillars of its desperately improvised defence crashed back down into the river. On the other bank, Arf tightened her grip on the magical chains that bound the orbs in place, muscles bunching against their strain.

A brief silence ensued as the combatants watched each other warily. Perhaps a minute had passed since the fight began. Faint, intangible threads of magic brushed across Fate’s face, and she scowled as she realised how the thing had been reacting so fast to her. “Of course...” she murmured, “Arf! It can feel everything around it! Don’t ever assume it doesn’t know exactly where you are!”

She had scarcely finished the warning when the stalemate was abruptly broken by a flurry of water bullets and razor shards of ice. Compared to the brutal, panicked fury of its last attack, or the wide, cutting spray it had tried before that, it was a comparatively weak attack.

Unfortunately, it was directed at Arf.

The familiar cried out in fear at the oncoming attack, throwing herself out of the way into the undergrowth. Another volley forced Fate onto the defensive, preventing her from coming to her familiar’s aid, and with a convulsive wrench, the Seed took advantage of Arf’s distraction to rip itself free from the bindings, shattering the glowing chains like glass as the shell began its elegant rotation once again.

Fate could swear that the low hum, like a finger on a titanic wine glass, sounded somehow triumphant. “Fine,” she said softly. “Arf!” she raised her voice, “guard me!”

An orange-topped head, bedecked by tufted ears, popped out of the bushes. “Right!” called Arf, scrambling over and bringing up a shield between Fate and the creature.

One foot forward, the other braced back. Hold Bardiche at the chest; use the upper body to brace it from the recall. Compress the power, force it into the limits of the spell, pull up the crackling electric song from within...

Crimson eyes focused on the centre of the sphere with almost enough intensity to melt stone.

“Bardiche!”

[Thunder Smasher.]

Arf’s shield flickered out just as she fired, and the blast crashed into and over the paltry defence offered by the orbs of the outer shell like waves breaking over the side of a rowboat, capsizing it in an instant. Only it wasn’t water that flooded the inside of the sphere, streaking across the short distance to the inner ring. It was condensed magic, lightning-aspected, which seared and burned and _blazed_.

The Jewel Seed _screamed_.

The steam began to clear, and from what Fate could see, the numbers of orbs in its outer shell had been drastically reduced. Its perfect order was broken, its calm elegance shattered.

It should not, in retrospect, have been so surprising when three orbs flew out of the dispersing cloud with sledgehammer force. Hurriedly bringing Bardiche up to guard, Fate swerved out of the way of them and prepared to smash any more that came toward-

The sound from behind her couldn’t be described in words, exactly. It was the sound that would be produced by a page full of text being deleted, or a beautiful painting being wiped clean, or a gorgeous sculpture being returned in an instant to raw blocks of stone. Every ounce of her considerable willpower was strained to keep from looking round in shock, but she resisted nonetheless. Instead, she tensed and leapt upwards, glancing down on her way up.

A segment of the forest was gone.

Not destroyed, reduced to kindling by the terrible force and momentum behind the orbs. Not broken or smashed, frozen or cut. Just... gone. A sphere about a metre across had been cut cleanly out of the undergrowth - the curve passed partway through the trunks of a couple of trees, mirror-smooth and absolutely perfect. A wide, shallow crater showed that the effect had worked just as well on the ground as the wood and foliage - and indeed, the boundary was so perfectly absolute that she could even see _leaves_ that had been sliced cleanly in two, along a glass-like boundary.

Wide-eyed and hyperventilating, Fate fought to get her hammering pulse under control. _She had been intending to parry that!_ She didn’t have time to suffer a mild heart attack from terror, though, because the scream of pain and rage was only increasing.

Once again, the surface of the river erupted. This time, however, it was not a single outburst of ice as a last-ditch defensive measure.

It was a maelstrom.

A whirling, roaring, screaming waterspout laced with razor ice and violet lightning exploded from the water, engulfing the central ring in a split second and expanding in mere heartbeats until it was at least a dozen metres across. The remainder of the outer shell, defence taken care of, quivered in the air and struck, firing like cannonballs toward the two mages. With twin curses, they split up, dodging frantically.

The next few minutes were hell, plain and simple. The orbs were relentless, hounding them without pause or respite, biting metre-wide chunks out of the landscape wherever the struck. After the third time she barely escaped intact, Fate flashed over to Arf, who was having marginally better success in keeping the things away with her barriers, and dropped into her arms.

“Arf,” she said urgently, “can you keep them away from both of us? I need to charge up a spell.”

The Familiar’s eyes hardened. “They won’t get _close_ ,” she vowed fervently. Fate nodded gratefully and entrusted herself to her friend, closing her eyes to better concentrate. The orbs were Arf’s problem now, worrying about them herself would serve no purpose. Her job was to charge up a very large amount of mana in a very short time.

Inward, she dived. Down, down, deep down, into the core of herself. There, eternally twisting and snapping, she beheld her magic - or at least her own visualisation of it. It was a crackling electric power, an enormous mass of lightning that never earthed itself, snapping and striking in all directions. A contained storm, held at the heart of her, wild and feral and savage.

Holding the images of her sister - so vulnerable, so small - and her mother, with perfect control and more magical skill than she could ever see herself gaining, Fate Testarossa straightened, a cool wash of imperial command taking over her face. The storm flew towards her - or perhaps she fell towards it - its electric, sparking surface boiling and turbulent, bolts of brilliant incandescence arcing from one point to another, blazing like a miniature sun.

Fate didn’t so much as flinch as it bore down on her. _‘You are mine,’_ she said, and her voice was certain. _‘You are part of me. You do my will. Now **help me**._ ’

It engulfed her, but it did not burn or sear. It felt warm, protective, safe. A blinding radiance, exhilarating and elated, that shone from her heart, blazed through her eyes, and flowed in cascading torrents down her arms to feed her weapon.

[Thunder Rage.]

Lightning struck, and for a moment it seemed as through the world was engulfed in blinding brilliance. The Jewel Seed screamed again, but its protests were weaker. Its own defence was its undoing, as cruel lightning conducted through the very super-cooled liquid with which it made to defend itself. The vicious claws raked over it, shattering its defences and stabbing into the heart of its power, shredding it. For a brief moment, the maelstrom was frozen in time, lit from within by a blaze of fire and lightning that refracted off every piece of ice within, a second sun born in the night within a column of water and mirrors, which cast its deadly, beautiful radiance across the entire forest.

The moment passed, and the column collapsed. Water washed over the riverbanks from the sudden downpour, lapping at the trees and pooling in the shallow craters. The few remaining orbs - all seven central ones, and perhaps four or five of the outer ones - fell to the ground, inert. The Jewel Seed, diminished and defeated, floated passively in the air, deceptively fragile and small for something that had been so dangerous mere moments ago. Breathing hard, Fate reached out with Bardiche, slowly.

The sealing was easy. The Jewel Seed’s power was shattered for the moment, it put up no resistance. Barely had the faint flare of light finished licking at her hands, however, when Fate heard a sound from the forest track off to her left.

She turned, Jewel Seed forgotten. There was never really any doubt over what the source of the movement was.

Red eyes stared into blue, and for the second time in as many weeks, Fate found herself face to face with Nanoha Takamachi.

...

Shakily, Nanoha emerged from the trees, eyes wide. She had caught the last few moments of the fight, panting from the exertion of running to the source of the magical emanations she could sense. She had _not_ expected to find the blonde girl locked in a pitched battle with... with...

Gulping, her eyes traced over one of the nearby craters. It looked like a bite had simply been ripped out of the world in a split-second flash of colour, the edges of the yard-wide sphere of nothingness as smooth as glass, no matter whether they sliced through wood, stone or soil. She imagined briefly what such an effect would do to a human body, and shuddered.

A soft movement returned her attention to the girl in front of her, who was now staring at her intensely. Cool mist was rising from the river as water vapour in the air was condensed by the intense cold. Moonlight gleamed through the branches above, casting shifting shadows over the scene in ardent hues. Perspiration beaded on the girl’s brow, her slight frame trembling with heavy breathing. Despite the clear exhaustion she showed, however, Nanoha almost found her even more intimidating than the last time they had met.

Endlessly deep, the burgundy gaze regarded her with a trace of wariness, and... was that a faint hint of confusion?

“... leave.”

Nanoha blinked. “... no,” she replied, reflexively.

The girl sighed. “The last time we met, Takamachi-san, I hurt you. Gravely. I do not wish to do so again.” She fixed Nanoha with a piercing look, one which perhaps held a hint of beseechment. “Please leave”.

“Nanoha.” She wasn’t sure why she blurted it out, but pressed onward rather than stumbling over her tongue. “Not Takamachi-san. Call me Nanoha.”

“... Nanoha-san.” Her voice was soft. “My name is Fate Testarossa.”

“Fate-san...”

Bardiche came down to point at her, Fate’s grip firm and steady despite the faint trembling of her upper arms. Whatever Nanoha had been about to say cut off abruptly, and she took a wary step backward, bringing Raising Heart up defensively.

“Nanoha-san, I have given you a warning. If you do not leave - _now_ \- I will be forced to attack.” Her eyes were sad, but resolute. “Understand. I _must_ gather the Lost Logia. I cannot fail in this.”

“Why? If it’s for a good reason, maybe I can help! Please, just... explain! Can’t we talk it over instead of fighting?”

Arf began to growl something, but Fate cut her off with a wave, turning back to regard Nanoha warily. “I... can’t tell you the details,” she began, slowly. “If I did... suffice to say that I cannot, not without _knowing_ that you would not stand against me. As I said, I cannot fail. But... do you know what it is like, when someone close to you is hurt, and there's nothing you can do?”

The words struck like a hammer, and Nanoha actually twitched in physical shock. Shakily, she nodded, expression fragile. Fate raised an eyebrow at the unexpected impact the words had made, but continued unaffected.

“This is something I _can_ do. Must do. And I can’t allow you- or anyone else - to stop me from protecting my family. Do you understand?”

Another nod, wide-eyed, vulnerable. Raw empathy shone from Nanoha’s eyes, and every line of her stance spoke of a common knowledge between them, an understanding of what it felt like to be in that position. A faint flicker of hope ignited in Fate’s chest. This might actually work...

“Then you will concede?”

Nanoha so very nearly said yes. Her heart cried out for the girl’s plight, demanding that she show sympathy. But nonetheless, a tiny part of her mind hung back, not opposed to Fate herself, but imagining in vivid colours the devastation the Jewel Seeds could wreck if misused. Fate might want them for a good cause. Perhaps even the best. But that didn’t change the fact that if she made a mistake, dimensions could shatter and worlds could be laid to waste.

 _‘Nanoha. We don’t know if she’s telling the truth,’_ Yuuno thought to her urgently. _‘And even if she is, we have no idea how she’s planning to use the Jewel Seeds! She could be planning anything with them! We can’t be sure she knows what she’s going, and one wrong move could-_ ’

 _‘I know, Yuuno-kun,’_ she cut him off sadly. _‘I know. I just... wish there was some other way._ ’

 _‘... me too. I’m sorry, Nanoha._ ’

Rather than answer him, eyes glimmering with tears, she shifted Raising Heart upward slightly toward the dark-clad girl balanced on the bridge rail. The movement was minute, but the message was clear.

“... I see.” Fate’s tone was sad - as sad as Nanoha’s mental voice had been. “In that case, I apologise. But my family comes first. Always.”

She was moving before the sentence was finished. Fast though she was, Yuuno was somehow faster, and a barrier blossomed out from his place on Nanoha’s shoulder to block her path. She twisted in midair, bringing Bardiche back over her shoulder for an overarm blow as she adjusted her course. A simple evasion and she could end the fight cleanly and with one strike, hurting the stubborn girl as little as possible. Maybe even damage her Device a little to discourage her from coming back.

She wasn’t expecting the barrier to keep going, the emerald pane of force accelerating forwards to plough into her like a runaway truck, sending her flying backwards across the river and into a tree.

Arf and Nanoha stared in pure, unadulterated shock for a second, before the former screamed in rage, her body bulging grotesquely and exploding out in a frenzy of hair and claws and teeth. The giant red-orange wolf that stood in her place as it finished howled in mad fury, but her telepathic voice was razor-edged with focus.

 _‘You **dare** hurt my mistress, you little brat!’ _ Leaping high into the air, she came down on Nanoha - or more specifically, Yuuno - with claws outstretched and jaws snapping and frothing for blood.

 _‘Nanoha! You take care of the girl! I’ll handle her Familiar!’_ ordered Yuuno, leaping off her shoulder. A dome-shaped barrier flickered into existence around both of them just in time for the enraged wolf to slam into it, throwing up sparks of viridian fire as she bore down on it with all her might. Cracks began to appear in the hastily-cast shield, but Yuuno was already casting again. Arf noticed the steadily rising updraft too late, and was only able to let out an impotent howl before both animals dissolved into green bars of light that flickered and vanished.

“A forced... teleportation...” Unsteadily, Fate got to her feet, holding her ribs gingerly. “Your friend is powerful, I’ll give him that.” Her eyes narrowed, “I’ve told you my motives. What do you two want the Lost Logia for?”

“Huh? No, you have it all wrong! We don’t want them for anything! We just want to keep them safe and stop anyone else from using them! They’re really dangerous! Please, Fate-san, I don’t want to fight you!”

“Hnn. If you want to stop anyone from using them, that makes us rivals.” The black metal of the axehead glinted ominously in the moonlight. “A fight, then. One Jewel Seed to the winner.”

“Fate-san...” Nanoha seemed to realise that further talking wasn’t going to help, and her expression firmed. “Alright! If you won’t talk, I’ll fight you!”

She was half-anticipating the lunge, and turned even as she made the declaration. As she had counted on, Fate appeared behind her, Device scything down in a hammer-blow, the crackling energy scythe spitting sparks at her. Nanoha barely got Raising Heart up in time, and the shafts of the two polearms crashed against one another, jarring her arms but arresting the deadly scythe blade’s fall.

Defending hadn’t worked last time. Taking a chance, Nanoha pushed onto the offensive, forcing Raising Heart forward and pivoting it around the point of contact between the two staves to bring the heavy, ring-shaped head around into Fate’s face. Fate reeled backward, stunned at the sudden aggressive tactic. The native girl had used a _shooting Device_ as a _blunt instrument!_

[Divine Shooter,] announced a cool, pleasant female voice, and Fate cursed inwardly as a dozen pink bullets sped towards her. Nanoha was not, it seemed, letting up on her offensive. Her back and ribs were still aching from the forceful paired impact of barrier and tree, and she was starting to run dangerously low on magic after the prolonged fight with the Jewel Seed barely moments ago.

Well then. That just meant she would have to start using less gentle options.

Dodging upwards, she cast a shield and allowed the shots to break against it. Reaching the pinnacle of her upwards flight, she hung in the air for a moment. The view was incredible, silver-tinted canopy in monochrome and sepia tones stretching out in all directions, broken only by the punctures in the treeline left by the Jewel Seed’s spiteful attack. The river ran between the trees far below, a mirror-like snake winding through the forest, and off in the distance she could see the hot springs resort, rising up like a squat, blocky hill from the surrounding woodland. The stars above were a sprinkling of light through the heavens as she turned, and the cool, clean air of the night was sharp against her face and in her breath.

Then the moment passed, and she fell, Bardiche drawn back, a silent wraith descending from on high like an avenging angel.

Nanoha saw her coming, of course. The girl wore a stubborn expression - she was probably aware that Fate’s reserves were running low, and confident in her ability to win if she could just hold out long enough. Gritting her teeth and bracing herself in midair, she thrust Raising Heart upward and cast a barrier above her.

Just as planned.

Blue eyes widened in shock as Fate blurred _past_ her, missing the barrier entirely, skirting just around the outer edge. A black edge lashed out, the space between axehead and shaft hooking Nanoha’s leg and running down until it caught against her foot, where it found itself unable to move any further down.

So instead, it pulled Nanoha along with it.

Slowing her dive to a standstill, Fate anchored herself and _heaved_ , using the entire length of Bardiche as a lever to physically hurl the girl she was dragging around and down, adding even more force to her already-impressive velocity. At the bottom of the arc, a mental command was enough for the blade to spring straight, flicking out into its glaive configuration and allowing the screaming girl to fall freely, caught completely unaware by the unconventional manoeuvre.

Which she did. Briefly.

As the dust from the crater cleared, Fate landed. Standing over the prone form, she held her glowing blade to Nanoha’s throat and stared down at her, one foot resting lightly on her chest.

“Yield.”

Pain singing in her still-unhealed wounds, Nanoha stared blurrily up into the blade of lightning frozen bare millimetres from her throat. Her vision swam, the force of the blunt impact reverberating through her body and turning all her bones into rods of red-hot steel. Or possibly jelly. They hurt like the former, but felt like the latter, so she wasn’t entirely sure.

[Pull out.]

The red gem pulsed, and expelled a blue gem from its depths, the surface rippling like water as it emerged. Nanoha mouthed something in protest - exactly _what_ was hard to say, as she had no breath with which to verbalise it. Fate deduced the likely gist of what she was trying to ask, though, and removed the blade from her throat in a smooth motion.

“Your Device obviously cares about you,” she noted. “It’s trying to protect you in the only way it has left.”

Pained though they were, Nanoha’s eyes still held a faint tinge of disappointment. Well, that was her problem. Fate plucked the Jewel Seed out of the air, storing it within Bardiche along with the one still hovering passively above the river. Noticing a couple of the inner orbs, dark blue and blemish-free despite the magical fireworks that had been going off near them, she took them as well. Mother might be interested in studying them, and if not... well, she could probably find some use for them.

“Goodbye, Nanoha Takamachi,” she said. “I have not hurt you badly this time, but if you continue to insist on interfering, I may not be able to avoid it in future.” Sending a mental prompt to Arf, she took to the air, flying up and over the treetops briefly before setting a course for home. Nanoha’s friend, the ferret, would ensure her safety, even if she wasn’t able to get back to the resort on her own. Regardless, Fate had what she had come for.

Left alone in the clearing, body aching and lying once again on her back after a humiliating and concrete defeat, Nanoha stared up at the sky and allowed a few lone tears to run from her eyes.

...

Step. Drag. Wince. Step. Drag. Wince. Step. Drag. Wince.

Nanoha slowly, silently, stubbornly limped back toward the resort. Yuuno watched with concern, but after her vehement refusal of his first offer to help her beyond the light Physical Heal spell on her sprained ankle - which may have helped her to stand without screaming, but definitely not fixed it completely - he kept silent.

Step. Drag. Wince. Step. Drag. Wince.

Each step, followed by the accompanying shuffle as she rested as little weight on her injured ankle as possible, sent a faint flicker of pain across her face, but she gritted her teeth and ignored it as best she could. She needed to get back to the lodge and into bed before anyone noticed she was gone, and that meant that she had to hurry. Granted, it was the middle of the night, but that didn’t mean Farin or Miyuki might not look in on them while going for a midnight snack, or something equally disastrous.

The lights of the hostel came into view, and Nanoha gratefully slipped into the building and snuck through the hallways until she reached the room she was sharing with Suzuka and Arisa. Slipping inside, she disrobed as quickly and quietly as she was able, hissing in pain a few times as she jarred her ankle. Yuuno stood guard outside the door, ready to give warning if anyone approached.

And yet, as mist-damp clothing fell softly to the floor, and bruised, battered ribs were hidden under pyjamas - she would have to be careful getting changed the next morning, to keep Arisa and Suzuka from seeing the fresh bruises - thoughts of pain, or discovery, or even the Jewel Seeds themselves were not what occupied Nanoha’s mind.

_”Do you know what it is like, when someone close to you is hurt, and there's nothing you can do?”_

She did. Oh gods, she did. That time, when her father had been in hospital, her sister spending every second of free time she had by his side, her mother and brother stretched to their limits in coping with the bakery... and what had she done? Not much. She had learned to look after herself, made sure she didn’t require supervision, freed up more time that didn’t need to be spent caring for her, who needed it least.

But the feeling still lingered. She wasn’t _helping_. Just minimising the difficulties she was adding to her family’s plate. She had told her mother once, young, serious and earnest, and Momoko had kissed her forehead and hugged her, and told her that it wasn’t true, that she was being incredibly brave and helpful. Nanoha had been mostly convinced, but she still wished she could have _done_ something.

_“This is something I **can** do. Must do. And I can’t allow you- or anyone else - to stop me from protecting my family. Do you understand?”_

Could she oppose that? Was she right to? This was nothing like any of the stories she’d read, where the bad guy was obviously bad, and the good guys were obviously good, and the heroes always won and everyone was happy. This was confusing, and difficult, and... and...

... and didn’t Fate deserve to win as well? Didn’t she deserve to protect her family, to help her loved ones? Whose cause was more worthy?

Troubled, Nanoha lay down and hugged herself into her bedroll, keen on getting to sleep as soon as possible so that she could stop thinking such uncomfortable thoughts. Yuuno scampered over, mentally assuring her that nobody had come near the room while she was changing, and that he hadn’t seen anyone as she was sneaking back in, either.

Neither of them noticed the figure on the bedroll to Nanoha’s right. Like Suzuka, Arisa’s body was relaxed, her breathing slow, her head half-buried in the soft, luxurious pillows.

But unlike Suzuka, her eyes were wide open, and her expression was as hard as stone as she watched her friend suspiciously.

...

Wreathed in a golden aura, Fate touched down gently on the roof of her penthouse, Arf following close behind. The flight back had been, if not tiring, then at least long, and the sun was peeking over the horizon. She wanted nothing more than to get to bed and enjoy a nice morning spent catching up on sleep.

Naturally, she was three steps into the apartment when Bardiche gave off the high-pitched series of chimes that signified an incoming communication. Groaning, and muttering words she probably shouldn’t know under her breath, she tossed the two deep violet-blue spheres of ice to Arf for her to take care of, put the triangular yellow talisman on the table and pressed it once, accepting the call.

“Fate-chan!” Linith’s warm voice sounded happily in greeting, “How are you? Have you been eating and sleeping enough? Run into any problems?”

Despite her tiredness, she couldn’t help but smile at Linith’s enthused, friendly manner. “Fine, yes and no, respectively. It’s good to hear from you, Linith.”

“You too, dear. Though... no problems at all? Not even a brown-haired little mage in white, with a ferret-companion?”

“...”

“Precia-sama told me,” Linith answered the unspoken question. “Honestly, Fate-chan. You should tell me these things! I might be able to offer some advice!”

Fate blinked, startled, as a thought occurred. “Actually, you might be able to help. I ran into her again today.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, and got two Jewel Seeds out of it, but that’s not-” Fate had to pause for a moment to allow Linith’s exuberant congratulations to subside, before continuing, “-that’s not really important. Mother said I could tell her a little about my motives, to see if we can get her to join our side, and... she reacted so _strangely_. Strongly, too. I can’t figure out why.”

“Hmm...” Linith’s voice sounded thoughtful over the connection, and Fate could hear the faint sound of tapping as she considered. “Have you considered hiring a private detective to look into her background? The funds we generated should allow you to cover something like that with relative ease as long as you don’t get too carried away. How much have you been spending, anyway?”

“Not much. Food, rent. A few books.”

Linith clucked disapprovingly. “It’s been two weeks, Fate. You’re not expected to spend every waking moment on the job, you could stand to spend a little time and money on yourself.”

“...”

The familiar sighed - this was an old argument, and one that she’d never won in all the times they’d had it before. “Urgh... like mother, like daughter. Anyway, yes. A private detective is just someone who will investigate something for a client, after being paid a suitable fee. While you personally might have trouble hiring one, I’m sure Arf’s adult form could. Or you could hire one by phone - I showed you how to use the phone book, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful, then! Tell them that you suspect she might be a relation, and that you’d like to know about her family history and childhood. That should be sufficiently vague as not to arouse any suspicion, and get you the information you need.” She hesitated, apparently uncertain as to whether to continue. “Ah... speaking of the attempt to gain her sympathies, you didn’t... injure her again, did you?”

“...”Fate shuffled her feet, gaze dropping. “... may have sort of slammed her into the ground,” she muttered.

“Oh, Fate,” Linith sighed, before perking up slightly. “Oh well. You weren't to know. Just something to keep in mind for the future.”

“I will. And... um... she did say she didn’t want to fight me. And seemed sympathetic. So I am making some progress. And no, I didn’t tell her any details, just that I was protecting my family.”

“Wonderful. Well then, I’ll go and tell Precia-sama that you’ve claimed two more Jewel Seeds and made inroads with the Takamachi girl. I’m sure she’ll be very proud.” Fate perked up slightly, and smiled. “And... have you just got back from this?”

“... yes?”

“Then get to bed! You can call Precia-sama to make your report when you wake up! Oh, and eat something first, or you’ll go hungry.”

“I will. Thank you, Linith.”

“No need to thank me, Fate-chan. You’re doing a wonderful thing out there, and I’m very proud of you. As is your mother. Take care of yourself, alright? Love you.”

“Love you too, Linith. And mother.”

With a soft click, the connection closed.

...

Back at the resort, Nanoha long since asleep, Yuuno stared up at the moon from the windowsill, eyes tracing over its craters and pockmarks, marking the similarities to others he’d seen, on other worlds far across the dimensional sea. He missed Mid-Childa, and the comforting glow of its twin moons. He missed his clan, his digs and the masses of other magic users. He missed the TSAB and the knowledge that there was always a safety net there for him if something went wrong, one that was conspicuous only in its absence out here, on this strange, alien world, where there was nobody to call for help and the only mages were a lone native girl and a hostile expeditionary force that was after the same thing as he was. Only for rather different reasons, it seemed.

Mostly, though, he missed the feeling of boredom.

This world might only be a barbarian Unadministrated World, but it had been nothing but terror since he arrived. Right from the word go, the fight with the Jewel Seed monster had shown him that he was in way, way over his head. Since then, he had been alternately terrified and horrified in equal measure.

He glanced backwards over his shoulder at the sleeping girl behind him. Much of the terror had been related to Nanoha. Dry-mouthed fear whenever she fought, stark terror when he had seen her limp form falling bonelessly to the ground like a rag doll after the first round with the Testarossa girl, a low, nagging worry in the pit of his stomach while she had been incarcerated in hospital.

But the fear was as much _of_ her as for her. Her learning curve was... he had no other way to put it, it was terrifyingly fast. She had first picked up a Device less than a month ago, and already she was flying, exerting fine control over shooting attacks and, if he wasn’t mistaken, unconsciously speeding her own healing. She was progressing at a pace that, to his knowledge, was far faster than she should be.

Irritably, he shook his head. No, he was imagining things. She was powerful, yes, but Raising Heart was doing much of the work. Most mages trained on simple Devices, mass-produced, with heavy safeties and little in the way of fine control or precision. Raising Heart was a custom-built showpiece, a specialist Intelligent Device that happened to match her innate talents perfectly. That was all.

Still. It was as much what she _wasn’t_ learning as what she was. Her skills with magic were excellent, but she wasn’t learning the theory to go with it. Fundamentally, she had no idea what magic couldn't do. And that was worrying, because she was doing things just because she thought magic should be able to do it; with no greater context for what Mid-Style’s strengths were. Raising Heart was making up for her mistakes, for now, but in some ways that only added to the problem. She wasn’t gathering the learning experiences, where a trainee would normally find that their Device couldn’t handle something, and resolve not to do it in future. There was no organic process of discovery, finding out what was and wasn’t safe in a controlled, comfortable environment. And her core was large enough that, despite it being a terrible way to solve problems, she was tackling challenges in a... a cunningly _brutal_ way that he was beginning to associate with this world, using brute force in everything, even her finesse. She’d hit the Testarossa girl in the face with Raising Heart’s central intelligence core, for crying out loud, with no concern for how she could have damaged the Device! Granted, it was probably just because she’d seen the other girl using her more melee-focussed Device as a weapon like that, but nonetheless.

It was a problem of culture, more than anything. A problem he should really have foreseen. She was just a child, one who had never known about magic until he dropped into her life and handed her an Intelligent Device. He was fairly sure she was spending every hour she could learning more maths from Raising Heart. And the problem with that was that in focusing only on what she _could_ do, she was neglecting to learn about what she _shouldn’t_. She knew nothing about the mistakes of the past, the horrors that magic could inadvertently bring about. Despite knowing how dangerous the Jewel Seeds were, she didn’t seem to have drawn the connection between them and the small red orb that rested so innocently in the hollow of her throat. _Any_ magic could be dangerous, and a fully operational Intelligent Device fed by what he estimated to already be an AA rank mage, even with barely any training...

... but that was the other problem. He couldn't tell her too much. For one, there wasn't the time. To give a proper history lesson - which was certainly something that he could do - would take time that they didn't have, not with that other girl out there, who was just as strong as Nanoha, and far better trained. That was in itself suspicious, because you didn't just find 9-year old mages of that rank. Was she from some other non-TSAB world? But she used orthodox Mid-style, albeit in a more combat-focussed stance. And... how was he meant to _start_ on something like that? He'd just have to make sure he made clear to Nanoha how dangerous magic could be if misapplied, and hope that nothing else went wrong.

Yuuno sighed, feeling suddenly very weary, and very unsure. Laying his head down to rest on his paws, he stared out at the alien sky and waited for sleep that wouldn’t come, feeling like he was his age for the first time in a long time.

He was getting the horrible feeling that he was in even further over his head than he had thought he was.

...


	4. Chapter Three

Arisa was annoyed.

In and of itself, this was not particularly unusual. The young Bannings heir was a temperamental person, and her passions ran naturally hot. Nor was the subject of her ire one that would have garnered any surprise - Nanoha Takamachi had a long history of rousing her blonde friend’s temper for one reason or another, often entirely inadvertently.

This case was, however, a particularly notable example of its type. Green eyes narrowed as they focused on their target, sitting one row in front and a little off to the left. Despite the fact that the lesson was maths - in theory her favourite subject - Nanoha was clearly distracted, staring off out of the window with an atypical expression of uncertainty. Chewing on her bottom lip absently, she gazed forward blankly, worry and confusion warring across her face.

Arisa gritted her teeth, suppressing a growl of anger. For weeks now, Nanoha had been distracted, preoccupied. Ever since she’d been landed in hospital, it had been raised to higher levels than ever. She would zone out frequently, barely participate in conversations and sit staring off into space whenever she had a free moment.

It was _infuriating_. And the worst of it was that she was _clearly_ up to something, and yet she wouldn’t explain! Didn’t she know that her friends wanted to help her? Wasn’t _she_ the one who’d taught _them_ that sharing your problems made them easier to cope with, even if your friends couldn’t help directly?

With clenched fists and gritted teeth, Arisa scowled at her friend as the lesson dragged on. That Nanoha was apparently too out of it even to notice only spurred her annoyance even higher. She watched, ignoring the teacher, as the confusion and uncertainty writ large on the young brunette’s face shifted back and forth, an internal debate raging behind the unfocused blue eyes. Slowly, her expression began to settle, her confidence began to grow. Arisa could actually see it happening; follow the slow settling on a decision. From long experience, she knew that once Nanoha decided on a course of action, she would move the heavens and earth to accomplish it, and waited in tense anticipation for the culmination of the decision silently being reached on the other side of the classroom.

Expression firming, hands fisting, Nanoha seemed to come to a decision. Blue eyes blazed with determination as she gave a firm, affirmative nod, and Arisa watched as...

... as...

... as her eyes glazed over slightly, and she settled back in her seat again, the mask of indecision having merely been swapped for one of preoccupation - or possibly intense concentration. Whatever she was thinking or daydreaming about though, it didn’t seem to be leading to any actual action on the decision she’d just reached. The anticlimax was like a slap in the face, and the last shreds of Arisa's patience vanished.

Barely registering the end of the lesson as the teacher left the room, she stood in a rush, chair clattering backwards, stormed across the room and slammed her hands down on Nanoha’s desk.

“Damn it, Nanoha!” she yelled, and heads turned all across the room at the sudden explosion. The girl herself jerked back violently, snapped out of her daze by the volume and violence she was addressed with. Either not noticing or not caring about the stares she was drawing, Arisa continued heatedly. “What is _with_ you? You’re off in a daze all the time, you’re barely paying attention in class... what is going on?!”

Nanoha stared at her blankly, blinking in shock, before a light flush of guilt and embarrassment formed. “Uh... sorry, Arisa-chan. I guess I was just drifting-”

Arisa didn’t want to hear it. Growling audibly, she turned her back on the weak excuses and stormed out, expression furious. Dimly, she noticed Suzuka trying to placate her from the back of the room, but she was far too annoyed to stay put. Her feet led her on a random path through the halls, past students just beginning to file out of their classrooms for lunch, until she found a relatively quiet stairwell. Gripping the handrail as hard as she could, staring out over the school grounds, she clenched her teeth and tried to rein in her temper.

Absorbed in her thoughts, she wasn’t sure how long it was before a small noise from the stairs behind her drew her attention. Sullenly, already knowing who it was, she considered ignoring Suzuka for a moment before relenting. The purple-haired girl hadn’t done anything wrong, after all. Letting out a sigh, she turned.

... well. Suzuka wasn’t a surprise. The fact that she’d somehow convinced Nanoha to come after her was. Even more surprising, Nanoha didn’t seem angry or upset about Arisa’s eruption - which, now that she thought about it, _had_ been a little over the top. If anything, she looked... contrite.

Maybe she was going to explain?

“Um... Arisa-chan?”

“What?” she said, huffily. Okay, so maybe she was still a _little_ frustrated. She was allowed to be!

“I... um... I’m sorry that I’ve been off lately, I really am! Things have just been...” Nanoha trailed off uncertainly, face growing pensive. Before Arisa’s annoyance could reignite, Suzuka stepped in.

“Nanoha-chan,” she said, laying a gentle hand on the brunette’s shoulder. “How long have we been friends?”

“Uh... ages. Since we were little, and...” a wistful smile crossed Nanoha’s face as she remembered the events that had brought them together.

“And we’ve had problems in that time, right? Like when we were seven and the puppy got run over?” Nanoha nodded solemnly, remembering the tears that had accompanied the event. Arisa had taken a liking to the little creature, which had sadly been a little too inquisitive for its own good.

Eyes narrowing, Suzuka moved in for the kill. “And when one of us had problems, they shared them, right? And that made it easier to cope. We could help each other, when we shared what was wrong.”

Nanoha froze, realisation dawning for her in much the same way as it did for a dinosaur realising that the bright light on the western horizon was not the sun. Despite herself, Arisa almost applauded.

“Suzuka-chan... um...” Biting her lip, Nanoha fidgeted uncomfortably, looking rather like she would rather be anywhere else. “I really want to tell you, but I-”

“Then do, Nanoha-chan! Please! We want to help you! And... and we can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on. We just want to make you feel better. You’ve been so... so miserable, lately.” Suzuka turned imploring eyes on her friend, pleading with her. “Nanoha-chan... I promise, we’ll both do whatever we can to help you. Even if there’s nothing we can _do_ , we can still help by sharing your problems! And... and I don’t want to see you looking lost and troubled, Nanoha. Neither of us do.”

“I’m not-”

“It’s written all over your face,” Arisa interrupted, cutting off Nanoha’s abortive attempts at a denial. “And yet you won’t tell us a thing, no matter how often we ask.” She looked up, eyes blazing. “Can’t you see you’re hurting us, too? You’re _lying_ to us when you say that, and we’re _worried_ about you, and-” she stopped abruptly, looking down and letting her hair fall over her face, hiding her expression. Something inside Nanoha twisted painfully at the sight.

“Nanoha-chan... I know that everyone has secrets even from their best friends, but... please. Are you sure this has to be one of them?” Suzuka’s tone was still gentle, her expression compassionate. Nanoha struggled inwardly for several tense seconds, before her legs abruptly folded, dropping her into a sitting position on the stairs with a light thump.

“O-okay,” she whispered. “I’ll... I...” Her mouth opened and closed a few times, unable to decide on how to start. Her friends waited - one patiently, one in tense anticipation.

“Um... okay.” Nanoha nodded, seeming surer of herself, “It started with-”

She stopped abruptly, jerking ever so slightly, and cocking her head to one side - an unconscious movement, as her eyes glazed over. Arisa forced down the instant urge to yell at her for zoning out _again_ , just as she was about to explain things, and looked closer. It almost looked like the girl was listening to something very faint, something that only she could hear. Arisa watched, suspicious, as emotions played across Nanoha’s face again. Another inner struggle was taking place, it seemed - another decision. Except...

... except she had already _decided_ to tell them. Arisa knew her friend. If Nanoha had decided something, she wouldn’t just change her mind on a whim. She wouldn’t turn back on that. And yet...

“... with... I...” Nanoha raised distressed eyes to her friends. “... I’m sorry, Arisa-chan, Suzuka-chan. I’m really, really sorry. But... I just can’t.” She looked miserable. But despite that, she’d made her mind up. Something, somehow, had changed her decision at the last second.

Well then. That was that, it seemed.

“Uh... Arisa?”

The blonde was looking down, face hidden by her hair. As Suzuka looked closer, she could see that her fists were clenched tightly in her lap, and she was actually physically shaking. Before she could reach out in concern, Arisa spoke, her voice low, tight and full of barely restrained fury.

“So what you’re saying,” she ground out through gritted teeth, “is that you still won’t say. We’re worried about you, we want to help, we’re your _friends_ ,” this last word she almost spat, “ But that’s still not enough, and you’re just going to keep trying to handle whatever it is by yourself, and deny anything is happening.” By the end of the terse summary, Arisa’s voice hadn’t risen much, but the hurt, insulted tone was clear, still undercut by raw fury. Eyes wide, almost fearfully, Nanoha nodded, and Arisa seemed to notice the response despite having not turned her head.

Abruptly, she turned back to the rail - a violent, sudden movement that sent her hair flying back over her shoulder. Taking two rapid steps forward, limbs stiff with anger and slight frame trembling with fury, she spoke again, grimly staring out of the window - not quite shouting, but nowhere near her previous quiet tone, obviously starting to lose the struggle to keep calm.

“If you’re just going to _lie_ to your friends to keep them out of your business, then fine, Nanoha. If you want to keep insisting nothing is wrong while you sneak out at night and come back limping and covered in bruises, that’s just _fine_. But don’t _mock_ us by pretending nothing’s wrong. We’re worried about you, and we want to help, and all you do in return is feed us this line of...” She whirled back around, eyes alight and furious, almost yelling now, as angry as Suzuka had ever seen her. Something seemed to keep her from finishing, though, her rant cut off like a knife and she seemed to shrink slightly as she gathered herself, taking several deep, calming breaths.

“If you ever decide to actually be honest with us,” she resumed, not looking at Nanoha, who was looking at her in a mixture of fear, hurt and pleading, “then we’ll listen. But until then...” Finally, she met the girl’s eyes, and glared at her in hot, furious betrayal, her anger all the greater for how much she cared beneath it, “... until then, I don’t want to hear any more from you. Not after this.”

Tears glimmering at the corners of her eyes - of anger, hurt or sadness, Suzuka couldn’t tell - the blonde whirled on a heel and stalked off. Casting a sorrowful, apologetic look at Nanoha, who was still sitting stunned, Suzuka hesitated for a moment before following her.

Walking as fast as she could, trying as hard as she could to suppress the fuming, boiling cloud of anger and hurt inside her, Arisa let her legs carry her where they would, uncaring of where she ended up.

She didn’t look back.

...

Head hung low, Nanoha trudged home, still smarting from Arisa’s vehemence. The girl’s words had hurt, but not as much as the pain and frustrated helplessness in her eyes as she shouted. Nanoha had experience with knowing something was wrong and being unable to help. It wasn’t a state she would wish on her worst enemy, let alone her best friend.

The cold bit at her skin, errant breezes tugging her clothes this way and that as she walked. Strands of hair fell across her face as the wind snatched at them. The weather was cold, the sunny days coming to an end. Off to the east, the skies were darkening, a storm front moving in. Shivering, she sped up, hurrying back to the warmth and safety of her home and her family.

Yuuno seemed to take in her mood with a glance as she walked in stiffly. He ducked his head, either in apology or sympathy.

_‘They... didn’t take it well?’_

Nanoha glared. He took the hint and shut up. The aura in the room radiated out from the small figure as she flopped onto the bed, her body language depressive and melancholy. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. His charge was angry and upset, and it was... sort of his fault.

Not that he wouldn’t say the same thing again, if she asked him out of the blue like she had earlier. Telling her friends wasn’t a good idea; he believed that as a matter of certainty. But their reactions to it had apparently not been positive, and he had to admit, he could see why. And now Nanoha was lying on her bed, scowling at the ceiling and showing none of the cheerful enthusiasm she usually displayed.

 _‘Why can’t I tell them, anyway?’_ Nanoha’s voice sounded petulant, and Yuuno was vividly reminded for a moment that this girl, who had fought monsters and risked her life in saving him, was only nine years old. Indeed, she had only found out about magic a month ago. He wasn’t much older, of course, but he had grown up accustomed to responsibility and independence. Nanoha was a stranger to all of this, shouldering a role that would have daunted adults three times her age.

 _‘You know why,’_ he replied as gently as he could. _‘It’s-’_

 _‘Too dangerous, I know, I know. You keep saying.’_ She rolled over, huffing grumpily. “Stupid Arisa. Why can’t she just... urgh. I _want_ to tell her, can’t she see that? I just...”

Another pause. Yuuno tried to think of something to say to fill the silence, but nothing came to mind. The diatribe wasn’t really directed at him, anyway. This had been fermenting for a while, and if it didn’t come out now, it would later. He’d seen it happen in his cousins, occasionally, when they had a fight. Deciding to let her vent - or possibly declining to remind her of his presence and make himself a target - he curled up tighter on the desk and watched the sullen girl, waiting for her to finish.

“... and the girl! Fate! All mysterious and... urgh. She said she was trying to get the Jewel Seeds for someone close to her, but not _who_ or _why!_ Is it too much to ask that everyone could just be open about things?!” Angrily, Nanoha rolled back, tossing a pillow across the room in a brief fit of frustration. From his position on the other side of the room, Yuuno felt a brief moment of relief that magic wasn't a reflex for her yet. Better a pillow than a training shot. Or an uncontrolled blasting spell.

Nanoha’s tantrum seemed to be reaching its peak as she fumed. Abruptly, something seemed to tip internally, and her jaw set. “You know what?” she announced, “Fine!” She sat up, expression indignant. Where she had been morose as she came in, and sulky as she vented, she was now well into defiant, and verging on aggressive. Thumping the bed for emphasis, she nodded fiercely, her brief slump into depression replaced by incensed resolve. “If Arisa wants to have her tantrum, I’ll let her! She can _be_ all stubborn, see if I care! And Suzuka can too! And when I _can_ tell them, they’ll understand why I wasn’t able to right now!”

Yuuno quietly wondered whether she was trying to convince him or herself with this, but held back from asking. This turn into determination seemed... positive. Mostly.

“And if Fate won’t tell me what she’s doing, I’ll...” Nanoha faltered slightly as she remembered the outcome of the last two fights against the blonde, but rallied magnificently, “I’ll get stronger until I can beat her, and then I’ll _make_ her tell me! And if the Jewel Seeds keep coming, I’ll stop them all myself if I have to! And if anything else happens, I’ll deal with that, too!”

Suiting word to deed, she sprung up from her prone position and raced out the door, Yuuno left forgotten in her wake. Following, with a faint tinge of foreboding about what she might be intending, he nonetheless found himself left behind by her as she sped off downstairs.

By the time he caught up to her, Nanoha had appropriated a broom from a cupboard and assumed a combative stance in the living room. Pausing at the doorway in mild confusion, the ferret watched in bemusement as she swiped at the air with it, nearly overbalancing once or twice as she swung with a little too much enthusiasm.

_‘Um... Nanoha?’_

_‘Hush, this is part of my plan. Miyuki’s upstairs, so you need to go up and get her to come down here. Then I can pretend to want to learn staff fighting, and get her to teach me, so that I can use Raising Heart better!’_

Yuuno winced inwardly at the thought of Nanoha continuing to use the delicate Device as a melee weapon, but wearily accepted that he wasn’t likely to change Nanoha’s mind on the matter. And the girl had a point - greater combat skills would certainly increase her chances of survival in the fights against both Jewel Seeds and Fate Testarossa. He began to turn back upstairs, towards Miyuki’s room, just as the door behind Nanoha opened.

The next few seconds happened very fast. Stepping backwards with a childish “hya!”, Nanoha drove her impromptu stick sideways, still trying to emulate the movements that Fate had made so crisply and easily during their last fight. The momentum spun her round like a top, twirling through a half-rotation with the stick trailing out wildly, before it came to an abrupt stop in a slender hand raised protectively in front of its owner’s face.

With a slowly mounting sense of dread, Nanoha followed the hand up the arm attached to it, over a tensed shoulder and into a face. A familiar face. A familiar face that had one eyebrow raised, and which had just entered the room from entirely the wrong direction.

“Uh... Nanoha?” asked Miyuki warily, not letting go of the broom handle poised inches away from her face. “Why are you... did mum ask you to clean the ceiling or something? Because I think you’re meant to use the dusters, and... wouldn’t it be better to get Dad or... well, anyone but the littlest one in the family to do it?” A smile crept onto her lips at Nanoha’s mortified expression as she gently teased the girl.

Nanoha flushed bright red and stammered nervously, wide-eyed at how close the broom had been to Miyuki’s face when her hand had snapped up to catch it. “Um... I... ah... I...”

“Breathe, little sister. I’m not mad, you didn’t connect. Though I would sort of like an explanation.”

“Well... um...” Nanoha struggled to find an explanation for a moment, looking sheepishly up at her sister, before her brain kicked into gear once more and she proceeded with stage two of her original plan.

“I’m doing staff fighting! Like you and papa and Kyouya! I want to learn, too!” She tugged on the broom, trying to get it back to demonstrate. Still caught in Miyuki’s iron grip, it moved perhaps a centimetre.

“Really.” The older girl sounded dubious. “And why the sudden enthusiasm?”

“Ummm...” Nanoha searched for an explanation that Miyuki would accept, scuffing her foot nervously on the floor. “I... uh... the new Ghibli movie?”

Miyuki stared at her for a moment, and then let go of the broom. Tilting her head, she gave Nanoha a searching look that made her squirm, and seemed to have a short mental debate with herself. After a second or two of decision, though, her expression melted into a slightly amused smile, though the evaluating look remained.

“Well, noble inspirations aside, I’m afraid you’re not quite living up to the movies,” she joked with a faint grin. “If you really want to learn, I suppose I can teach you, but... Nanoha, if you get bored of this in a week or so and decide to do something else, I will not be pleased. If you really want to learn, you’ll have to show me that you’re serious about it.”

“I am! I’ll work really hard on it, I promise!” Nanoha seemed to blaze with determination, and Miyuki took a half step back, surprised by her emphasis. The appraisal intensified, and she nodded as if something had been confirmed.

“Well... alright. In that case, go change into something more... wearable, and meet me out in the dojo. The first thing we need to work on is falls.” She eyed Nanoha’s hands where the clutched the broomstick, and closed her eyes in exasperation. “And the second thing will be your grip. Now go! Shoo! I can only give you a couple of hours today, so hurry up!”

Nanoha stared at her sister for a moment, stunned at how... how _easily_ she had agreed. She wasn’t sure Miyuki had fully believed her excuses, but if she hadn’t, she wasn’t questioning it. She was...

The memory of Miyuki’s face as she woke up in hospital resurfaced. The worry, the anger, the concern. Examining her sister’s face, she caught a glimpse of that feeling still there. Mixed with a determination not to have to go through it again.

Well. That explained... things.

Impulsively, Nanoha threw herself at Miyuki, engulfing her in a brief, hard hug which was reciprocated in full measure. Her sister knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth, but... she was trusting her. Trusting that whatever she needed staff fighting skills for, it was for a good reason.

“Thank you, Miyuki-neechan,” she mumbled, voice muffled by her sister’s torso, face pressed into her chest. After a final squeeze, she looked up with a bright smile, eyes a little teary. “I’ll go get ready now! I’ll meet you in the dojo!” Already going through her wardrobe in her head, she dashed off upstairs to change.

Miyuki watched her go, eyes narrowed. Following her sister until the girl was out of sight, she hummed to herself quietly, lips pursing as she thought. Then she shrugged, pulling out a phone and heading off in the direction of the dojo.

“Hey, Kaya? Sorry, I won’t be able to make it to study this afternoon. Something came up. No, don’t worry, nothing bad, it’s just...”

Still watching from the doorway, Yuuno smiled. Nanoha was bearing a heavy burden, yes. But she was waking up to the fact that she had family willing to support her in it. That was good. Worries assuaged, he followed Nanoha upstairs with a lighter step than he’d been carrying in weeks.

Perhaps things were starting to look up, after all.

...

As Nanoha was beginning to be introduced to the basics of stick fighting, another girl well acquainted with the practice was walking along a high street, heading back to her apartment with a fresh bag of food and a satchel of library books. She hummed a happy tune as she paced along the streets; by now familiar enough with the city to navigate back home unconsciously. Her thoughts drifted idly, content for the moment. As the high-rise glass and steel facade of her current residence rose above her, she came back from the pleasant fog of daydreams and mundane boredom into sharp focus.

Nodding pleasantly to the porters in the lobby as she passed them on the way in, she took the elevator on up to her penthouse and toed the door open, burdened down with groceries and books as she was.

“Fate-chan!” Arf greeted her, as enthusiastically as always. “Did you bring more ramen?” Her tail and ears twitched at the thought of the delectable Earth meal, and she hopped off the couch and approached her master, sniffing inquisitively.

“No, just groceries.” Fate ignored her familiar’s whine of disappointment, dodging round her with a slight smirk and depositing the bags on the kitchen table. Checking to make sure that Arf hadn’t followed, she slid half a dozen packages of instant ramen out of the bags surreptitiously and hid them in the-

“I _knew_ it!”

... cupboard. Apparently, Arf’s sense of smell was as good as she so often claimed. An annoyed twitch ticking at her eye, Fate sighed in resignation. So much for surprising her friend. Puppy-like, Arf pranced in a circle, chasing her own tail and singing triumphantly. “Ramen ramen ramen, ramen ramen ramen, hope you got some spicy things, for the ramen ramen!”

“Okay, yes,” admitted Fate, pushing Arf away and defending the treat from her grabs, “I have ramen. But you’re not to have any yet.” Arf immediately began to protest, but Fate waved her down. “No! You need some healthy food! This is a snack food and a reward; you’re not to have it now.”

“Aww... but... but...” A sharp rap on the nose aborted her attempt to grab some of the packets and sent her whimpering back several steps, where she levelled a pleading look at Fate. “Fate-chan...” she protested, turning the full force of her puppy eyes on the girl. Fate stared back, entirely unaffected, and eventually Arf slumped, pouting.

“Meanie.”

Fate let the barb pass, packing the rest of the groceries away, and pulled out the first book in the pile. While she had done her best to accommodate Linith’s insistence that she take some time to spend on her own pursuits, she wasn’t quite capable of wasting time on something _totally_ irrelevant to her mission. So she had compromised, and bought a few history books. They probably wouldn’t be that useful, but knowing about the history of the region she was working in couldn’t hurt, and might yield a few valuable insights.

Flipping the book open to the first page, it was, of course, gibberish. Sighing, she called Bardiche up to hover over the page, and after a few seconds of scanning and translation, a more readable pane of light appeared above it, filled with glowing Midchildan text.

Settling back in the chair, curling up and letting the soft cushions engulf her slight form, Fate began to read.

She was halfway through the fourth chapter and fast becoming engrossed when Arf sidled into the kitchen in human form. Given the way she was staying close to the floor, crawling along in what she probably considered to be a stealthy, surreptitious manner and quietly humming her ramen song to herself, Fate was able to make a rough guess at what she was there for. Sighing, and tearing herself from the detailed account of the early Kamakura period, she glared at the hopeful familiar.

“Arf!” she snapped out, causing the girl in question to jump with a squeak of surprise. Fate stared for a second, honestly nonplussed. Had... had she actually thought Fate couldn’t see her? While humming? Despite her best efforts, the blonde’s lips twitched upwards in the beginnings of a smile.

“Arf,” she repeated, “no ramen. Stop trying to sneak over and steal it.”

“Awww... but...”

“Do you want me to throw it all away?”

Arf’s eyes went wide and fearful for a moment, and she almost seemed to teleport away from the cupboard containing her precious ramen supplies. Fate endured her plaintive stare for another minute or so before impatiently beckoning her over. Recognising her intent, Arf shifted into her wolf form and padded over, curling up on the couch and releasing a low, happy growl as Fate’s hand came down to stroke her absentmindedly.

“Arf?” she murmured after a moment, “If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could make me some tea?” The orange-red wolf lingered for a moment, growling sulkily at being forced to move from her comfortable spot just as she had got settled, but eventually slipped off onto the floor and padded through into the kitchen. A few moments of clanking and pouring later, Arf came back out in human form, holding a teacup and saucer and looking uncharacteristically worried.

Carefully setting the drink down on a side table, she curled up again next to Fate on the couch again and staring off into the distance, lost in thought. After a few minutes of peaceful silence, broken only by the quiet rasp of Fate turning the pages, she spoke tentatively, idly winding a loop of hair around one of her fingers.

“Um... Fate-chan?”

“Mmm?” Fate’s eyes didn’t leave her book, though she turned her head slightly to show that she was listening.

“What... what will we do if the TSAB show up, Fate-chan? Only... there’s already that Nanoha girl. And the ferret with her, and...” Arf was speeding up as she got into full flow, hands beginning to tremble a little and eyes widening. Apparently, she’d been thinking about this for a while, and was rightfully scared of the possibility.

“Arf, calm down,” Fate cut her familiar off before she could work herself into a rant. Attention now fully on the other girl, she absently flicked her book closed before settling back and pursing her lips in thought.

“... you’ve been thinking about this.”

Arf nodded frankly. “Since the Jewel Seed in the river. Maybe even a little before. Fate-chan, if the TSAB turn up, we’re... I mean, I’m good, and you’re amazing, but the TSAB are just...”

Fate nodded, biting her lip and considering. Arf wasn’t the only one to have had a few moments of gut-wrenching dread about exactly that occurrence. The TSAB were a frightening enemy, and everything she’d learned about them in the past three years drove that point home with chilling finality. If it came down to a direct confrontation between her and the Bureau, she would lose. Perhaps not to the first team sent after her. She might even survive or escape the second. But it was a near certainty that once the specialists of the Bureau started to move in, her chances of completing her mission dwindled to zero. And that would mean that she would have failed Mother, and... and Alicia would never get better.

Still. Her mother had been over this with her, describing the TSAB’s strengths and weaknesses, outlining their plan for avoiding the self-appointed police force. Patting her book absently, Fate gathered her thoughts and started.

“The first thing you should remember is that the TSAB aren’t very old - only about seventy years have passed since they were set up. And Dimensional Space is big. Very big. The main factor providing for our safety is the sheer size of the Dimensional Sea,” she said, her voice unconsciously shifting as she recited what her mother had told her, “and the fact that the TSAB are still seriously lacking on manpower.” She tilted her head, dredging up the figures from her memory. “This is Unadministered World #97... I think the nearest Administered World is three dimensions away by the shortest route possible - Unadministered Worlds 89, 96 and 93 are between us and there. That would be... Pihroea, I think it’s called. A Type 4 world, but not as nice as Mid, and mostly a wildlife preserve.” She smirked slightly at this, brushing a lock of hair out of her face and behind an ear as she continued, “Which is, Mother says, a nice way of saying ‘it has a small military garrison to protect a backwater colony which no-one cares about’. And that’s the nearest TSAB presence to us.”

She smiled at Arf. “So, to start with, as long as we keep our heads down and don’t do anything too flashy, the TSAB will never think to look for us here. They don’t even know we exist, and the chances of them ‘just happening’ to look in on this planet with sensors good enough to detect us as so long as to be almost impossible.” Considering for a moment, she absently stroked Arf’s hair as she thought, brushing away the curl made by the orange-haired girl’s fiddling. “And... I can’t think of many things that could bring them here from that far away. I mean, Na... Takamachi-san and I have had full-scale magical battles, and that isn’t detectable from much beyond orbit, even at the levels we fight at. Anything they could pick up from their standard patrol routes would have to be enormous, and I doubt we’ll be seeing anything like that.”

“Okay...” said Arf, mollified somewhat. The tension wasn’t entirely gone, though, and while she had stopped shaking under Fate’s petting, her voice still held a tinge of worry. “So they’re really, really unlikely to find us by chance, then. But what if they do, somehow?”

Considering this, the blonde girl picked up her tea and sipped at it, savouring the taste and giving herself some time to think.

“That... would cause problems, yes,” she acceded with a careful nod. “But the TSAB is still spread thin. They really don’t have enough people to manage all the territory they administer, Mother says. So the chances of them sending in their top troops immediately are very low. We’d more likely be seeing one or two relatively experienced mages - A rank, probably - and a backup squad of C or D-rankers.” She smirked again, raising an eyebrow at Arf. “I think we can probably handle an opponent like that with ease. It’ll take them at least a week or so to bring in their powerful soldiers - maybe more, if something else requires their attention elsewhere in Dimensional Space - so we’d have to get as many Jewel Seeds in that time as possible and step up our timetable.”

She sighed, leaning back into the soft cushions, tilting her head back until she could see the sky through the vast window behind her. Burgundy eyes fluttered closed, and a sudden increase in the amount of heat being thrown off next to her marked Arf’s shift into her wolf form, fears apparently put to rest. The soft fur snuggled closer to her, and she brought a hand up to caress Arf’s muzzle and tickle under her chin. “That would be really troublesome though,” she mumbled sleepily. “Best would be to collect all the Jewel Seeds fast and efficiently, then get back to the Garden without anyone knowing we were ever here.

A rumbling growl was her only response - one that would have been a purr, if Arf could make such a noise - and a comfortable silence reigned in the luxurious apartment as the sun dipped towards the horizon and evening began to set in. The rays of light through the window travelled slowly up the wall, illuminating the family picture - Linith hugging Arf and Fate together with a smile, Precia standing slightly back and to one side with a pleasantly neutral expression - that hung in pride of place above the mantelpiece.

 _‘Fate-chan... ?’_ Arf mumbled telepathically, and repeated herself slightly louder when the drowsy query drew no response from the blonde, whose breathing had evened out. She looked to be in a light doze, and Arf didn’t like to wake her, but one point still nagged at her. _‘Fate-chan, what about...’_

Whatever she was about to ask was cut off, however, by the shrill tones of the phone demanding attention on the other side of the room. Groaning, and blinking sleep from her eyes, Fate pushed the heavy weight of Arf off her lap, which the wolf had gradually moved to cover during their shared nap, and stumbled over to the sleek black handset. Plucking it out of its charger, she fumbled and nearly dropped it before recovering it before it hit the floor and answering.

“Hello?” A pause. “Yes, this is her. Um... yes, I did.” She tilted her head slightly, wandering back over to the window and ignoring Arf trying to eavesdrop on the other half of the conversation. “You have?” she exclaimed, surprised, “That’s wonderful, what- yes, yes, that would be fabulous. Thank you.” She held the phone between her ear and shoulder as she jotted something down on a notepad, smiling. “Yes, I’ll be there as soon as possible. Thank you very much for your help.” Hanging up, she hurried over to the door, Arf trailing behind her in human form.

“Fate-chan? Who was that?” she asked, bemused by the girl’s sudden activity. Excited red eyes fell on her with a grin.

“That was the private eye we asked to investigate Takamachi-san’s background,” explained Fate, pulling her coat on. “He says he has his results ready for us to look over.” She paused. “So that means you’re going to have to make myself look like you could be my mother again,” she added, starting meaningfully towards the bedroom where the clothes were kept.

...

Reclining in the throne-like chair, Precia rested her chin on a thin hand and listened, eyes slightly narrowed. The vast, shadowy chamber she sat in was silent, save for the sound of the blonde girl speaking on the other side of the glowing panel hanging in the air. Linith stood at her side, quietly attentive and offering a cheerful smile as she gave Fate her full attention. She had been worried that the trip away from the Garden of Time would have been difficult for the girl, but she seemed to be positively blossoming in the new situation.

... and actually, she looked rather more animated than usual, talking about the young native mage she had been competing with. Linith’s smile grew slightly, taking on a slight overtone of personal amusement, and she filed that observation away for later consideration. Fate could use a friend her own age besides Arf, and from the looks of things, she seemed to have taken a liking to the determined little brunette despite their rivalry.

But such things could wait. Diverting her thoughts from potential burgeoning friendships, she returned her attention to Fate.

“... he also found her school records, so I had a look through them,” she was saying. “She’s intelligent, and seems to be driven to exceed. She’s _excellent_ at mathematics in particular, easily the best in her year.” She shuffled through a few of the papers she had spread out before her on the office desk, selecting one and skimming over it. “Her brother and sister don’t have similar grades... maybe it comes from her mother’s side of the family.”

Precia nodded, lips pursing. “That would explain why she’s taken so naturally to magic,” she mused thoughtfully. “And her magic?”

“AA-rank at least, I would say,” Fate replied seriously. “She’s not as strong as I am, but a fair amount of that is simple lack of skill. If given proper teaching - and believe me, she’s been learning as fast as she can - she could be really good.”

“Interesting,” Precia stated, clinically. “If that is true, she could soon represent a powerful agent on the board.” She frowned. “It’s... strange. The planet is largely devoid of magic, and yet this girl would be impressive even by the standards of Midchilda. It’s nothing like the normal magical distribution you would expect to find.”

Picking up another sheet of paper, this one lined with pictures, Fate cleared her throat and began to read from it. “Regarding her family... her father is Shiro Takamachi. Apparently, he used to be a bodyguard of some sort, and retired upon being ‘injured in the line of duty’ - no details of circumstance. He spent a long time in hospital though, so the injuries must have been severe. He now runs a bakery with his wife, Momoko. Her brother Kyouya-san is a half-brother from Shiro-san’s first marriage, and Miyuki-san, the sister, is actually her cousin on the paternal side, adopted.” She looked up. “That’s not all, though. Mother, I’ve been observing them practice - all but Nanoha-san and Momoko-san are active sword-users who practice daily in their dojo. They’re using magic.”

Precia’s eyes widened at this, and Linith let out a slight gasp. “You’re sure?” the older woman pressed. “Certain?”

Fate nodded solemnly, her expression serious. Inside, she was glowing at the focused attention her mother was paying her, happy that she was being useful. “It’s crude, not like any of the formal styles for using mass-based weapons for magic in the books. And not very powerful - barely E-rank, and they’re not using any actual spells. More... enhancement. Making themselves faster, stronger. I think they might be slightly altering the trajectories of any projectiles or strikes aimed at them, too. Like a very, very crude Barrier Jacket. But it’s definitely there. I’m not sure they’re even consciously aware they’re doing it. The son and daughter certainly aren’t.”

“Hmm.” It was a cool, deliberate sound. “Interesting.” Precia drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair, frowning slightly in thought. A raised hand forestalled Fate from continuing as she considered the information she had.

“... it’s possible her father could be ex-TSAB,” she said slowly. “Unlikely, but possible. Hmm. Keep it in mind, certainly, just in case. As to the girl... well, it seems that we’ve found out why your comment had such an effect on her. How old was she when her father was injured?”

Papers shuffled. Red eyes skimmed over lines of text. “Uh... it looks like she was four.”

The smirk was cold and triumphant, and Precia nodded, before frowning and raising a hand to her mouth to mask a serious of violent, shuddering coughs. Linith immediately moved round to support her, one hand going to her chest with a soft glow and the other wiping red flecks away from her mouth. As the fit passed, she waved Linith off and looked back up, composure regained as effortlessly as if it had never been lost. “A serious injury to a loved one at such a young age...” she continued, stifling another cough, “it would be surprising had it not left marks. This is good. Well done, Fate. What else?”

Fate scuffed a foot along the floor in agitation. Her mother looked... thin. Too pale. The coughing fits were getting more frequent, too. Her upset showed as she examined the older woman, noting the bags under her eyes and the laboured breathing - harder than it had been a month ago? It was hard to tell for sure, but she thought it might be.

An impatient cough brought her back to reality with a gasp, and she hurriedly rewound the conversation in her head to recall Precia’s last inquiry. “Ah... she seems compassionate, and has made multiple attempts to reach out to me, which is promising. At least two close friends - Arf met them in the hot springs resort up in the mountains. They seem close - the blonde in particular is... ah... protective of her. I imagine they’re concerned about her, as I rather doubt she’s explained where her injuries are coming from.” Linith raised a mildly admonishing eyebrow at this, and Fate blushed. “Uh... that is... um. Yes. Well. Anyway, uh... the ferret, yes. It’s definitely magical, and seems to at least be aligned with the TSAB. I can’t be sure, but I suspect that it is advising her not to tell anyone about her magical activities. That would be in line with what you said about Unadministered Worlds. So the first step is to neutralise the ferret and get her away from it.”

Precia rewarded her with a thin smile and an assenting nod. “Good. Yes, that is certainly a tactic worth exploring. Besides that... hmm. Capitalise on her father’s injury, tell her that by stopping you, she endangers your sister’s life. If the opportunity arises, and the ferret is nowhere nearby... have Arf distract it, if necessary... ask her to help you save Alicia. If she is as kind-hearted as you claim, it will at the very least discourage her from her attempts to interfere.”

“I understand, mother.”

“Good.” Precia leaned forward, eyes intent, and almost succeeded in hiding a faint wince as the motion jarred an existing ache in the wrong way. “With that concluded, how goes the search for the Jewel Seeds?”

Smiling proudly, and trying to put the brief flash of pain in her mother’s eyes out of her mind, Fate motioned to Bardiche. The yellow gem pulsed once, and a faint aura of gold light surrounded it. Buoyed up on the gentle radiance, half a dozen blue gems floated through the air, circling slowly above the Device in a hypnotic orbit. The blonde girl looked up hopefully, eager for praise, hoping to put Precia in a better mood. “I’ve managed to track down and recover three more Jewel Seeds since the last time we spoke,” she said, “bringing me to a total of six. I suspect several are in the ocean, but I intend to put off retrieving those until I have collected all of the ones on land, as they are likely to be much more difficult to get at.”

A skilled observer might have caught the faintly annoyed narrowing of Precia’s eyes. But only a very skilled one would have been able to read it in the brief instant it was on display before she displaced it with a pleasant, congratulatory smile. Fate, preoccupied, inexperienced and looking for something else, missed it entirely.

“Six Jewel Seeds? I am pleased, Fate, well done indeed. You are a good girl, working so hard for your dear sister.” She leaned back as the girl beamed at her and studied her face - so like Alicia’s, and yet...

She sighed sadly, projecting an air of faint disappointment and grief. “But... Fate-chan. Six Jewel Seeds alone will not be nearly enough. Could... could I ask you to try that little bit harder, to find more? Alicia needs you, Fate-chan. Thirteen Jewel Seeds at the very least will be necessary to cast the spell. You are doing well so far, but I have no doubt you could be doing better still.” A smile flickered across her lips as she watched the girl pale slightly and bite her lip, a guilty look in her widening eyes. Putting on a reassuring tone, she leaned forwards to deliver the coup de grace.

“I trust you, Fate-chan. You will not fail me.”

Granting the girl one last smile, she flicked the connection closed. In the apartment on Earth, Fate sat very, very still for several minutes, Arf watching in concern. The familiar was about to ask her what was wrong when, the girl stood up mechanically and moved, slowly and stiffly, through to the main room.

Arf followed her just in time to see the history book hit the wall, closely followed by the empty teacup. A cushion followed them, hurled with an angry scream as Arf rushed over to grab the girl in a hug that was both restraint and comfort, staring wide-eyed at the faint trace of tears glittering in her master’s eyes.

“Fate-chan! Fate-chan, what’s wrong? Fate-chan?”

Trembling, Fate fought against the hug for a few seconds before subsiding and weakly reaching her arms around Arf’s neck to return. After a few more moments, the trembling slowed and stopped, and Fate muttered into Arf’s shoulder.

“S’okay. I... I’ve calmed down now. You can let go.”

Tentatively, ready to grab her again if she resumed throwing things, Arf released her from the embrace and stepped back a little, eyeing her with concern. Fate‘s breathing was a little ragged, and her palms were white from where she had been clenching her fists too tightly, with a row of curved impressions where her fingernails had dug into her skin. Other than that, however, she seemed... not fine, but at least back in control. She looked at the far wall with a hint of shame and quietly walked over, gathering up the book and the shards of china in silence. Arf watched quietly as the broken teacup was disposed of neatly in the bin, and the book was exiled to a shelf in one of the rooms they rarely used.

“So,” she ventured. “Um... what... was that?”

A hint of anger flashed across Fate’s face, quickly suppressed. Arf almost flinched, but the anger seemed more focused inwards than out. The impression was borne out when Fate spoke, her voice quiet but intense.

“I... mother has _trusted_ me with this. And... and I’ve been taking naps and reading history books and d-drinking _tea_ ,” she closed her eyes and took a calm, centring breath before continuing, in a much leveller tone of voice, “when I should have been looking for the Jewel Seeds. Mother is right, I haven’t been trying hard enough. And that’s... selfish, and wrong, because it’s Alicia’s _life_.”

She squeezed Bardiche, wordlessly triggering her transformation, and started her way up to the roof.

“Come along, Arf. We need to patrol.”

...

Sunset, and a slight nip hung in the air as night set in, the heavy blanket of cloud that had moved in during the afternoon reflecting the city lights down from the sky. Safe from the cold in her orange sweater, Nanoha padded quietly along the streets, favouring her left leg slightly. Whatever might be said about her sister’s skill in comparison to her father and brother, it was impossible to deny that the older girl was _good_. Nanoha’s fingers were still aching slightly from one or two sharp raps obtained when Miyuki was correcting her grip. She could feel the difference though; it was _far_ more secure holding a staff like this than how she had been doing it. She’d been able to block strikes from Miyuki that were, as far as she could tell, even stronger than the ones Fate had been dishing out, and yet the white oak jo staff barely jarred her hands at all!

She smiled happily, pausing at a corner and concentrating. Her senses spread out, searching for any hint of a Jewel Seed activation - it would be much easier if she could sense them before they were active, but Yuuno had explained that she wasn’t skilled enough to do that yet. Finding nothing, as she had every time so far that night, she opened her eyes again and continued on her patrol, heading off down the well-lit street with a bounce to her step. There were still people up and about at this time of the evening, and she was forced to weave carefully through one or two crowds as they were hustled out of shops that were closing.

A flashing neon billboard caught her attention, and she regretfully took in the time flashing in one of the lower corners. It was... late. Not badly so, but she’d been out longer than she’d thought. Mama and papa would start to get worried if she stayed out much longer.

“Ahh...” she observed, “it’s getting late. I... should probably get back home.” She threw a guilty look at Yuuno, perched on her shoulder and looking around with interest and focused attention. At her words, he turned to look at her, shifting slightly to keep his balance on the precarious perch. A slight smile fluttered onto Nanoha’s mouth as he did so - it never ceased to impress her, how effortlessly he kept his balance on her even while she was running. It didn’t even seem to be something he thought about, just a natural sense of graceful equilibrium.

 _‘That’s okay,’_ he replied, eyes crinkling in a smile. It was impressive how expressive the face of a ferret could be - though that might just be Yuuno, as he was the first ferret Nanoha had met. _‘You go home and get something to eat. I’ll keep looking out here and call you if I find anything.’_

 _‘You’re sure it’s not too much trouble?_ She didn’t want to look like she was slacking off or making excuses. Though... she was getting a little hungry, come to think of it. As if on cue, her stomach rumbled quietly, and Yuuno chuckled.

_‘Yes, I’m sure. Go on now, go have dinner. Save some for me.’_

She beamed. Yuuno was a great friend. ’I will!’, she promised, and held still as he flowed off her shoulder and down her arm, hopping the short distance from her hand to the ground with a faint squeak.

“Okay then, see you at home!” she chirped happily with a parting wave, surreptitiously checking to make sure that nobody was nearby to see her waving at a ferret -and more importantly, see the ferret waving back. As Yuuno turned and scampered off, his lithe tan form quickly disappearing amidst the feet of the thinning crowds, Nanoha turned back towards the rising moon, plotting a course that would take her past the bakery en route home. As she jogged along the pavement and bounced impatiently at the crossings, she turned her thoughts to the blonde girl they’d lingered on with relative frequency in recent weeks.

She was better now. The staff alone... Miyuki hadn’t taught her much in the one session so far, mostly just corrected her stance and taught her how to fall, as well as going over a few of the most basic blocks and strikes. But that alone, she estimated, would give her vastly improved chances against the other girl. And hopefully mean that she would be slammed into the ground again. Oh no, she wasn’t letting _that_ happen a third time. In fact, Nanoha had a little surprise planned for Fate if she tried to hook her like that in their next fight.

Turning at a major junction, she carried on through a group of what looked like older students hitting the bars early and smiled wistfully as she realised her friends must be finishing their extracurricular lessons around now. One hand moved towards her pocket before stilling. Given Arisa’s explosion at her and Suzuka’s disappointed agreement with the fiery blonde, there would likely be no messages waiting on her phone. Nor would she be getting visits or phone calls over the weekend. With a sad sigh, she continued on her way, but the bounce and spring was gone from her step and her shoulders slumped a little.

She was perhaps a quarter of the way home, and three or four minutes past parting ways with Yuuno, when it happened. A sudden, explosive wave of power blasted outwards from nearby, a little further towards the city centre, a pulsing, boiling outburst of magic with no form or structure, saturating the surroundings. She recognised it, even as the shock of it made her cry out and stumble, barely catching herself on a lamppost as she fell towards the ground. It was the familiar, the wolf-woman who had accompanied Fate at the springs. But that wasn’t what sent a chill down Nanoha’s spine and drew the colour from her cheeks.

The thing that scared her was the answering spike of power, faint at first but rapidly building. It must have been right at the edge of the initial burst’s range - a miscalculation, perhaps, in its location. Had it been much further away, it might not have awoken at all. But such speculations were left abandoned for another day as Nanoha’s head turned fearfully towards the downtown area.

Another Jewel Seed had awoken. And not only did it feel more powerful than those that had come before, it was also further away. Much further. A Barrier wouldn’t reach it if she cast one here. Even if she knew _how_ to cast one. Whatever it was doing, it was doing it _around people_.

 _‘Yuuno!’_ she shouted frantically, already scanning around for a side-alley to transform in. _‘Can you put up a Barrier?’_

His voice when he replied was as frantic and frightened as hers. _‘No, I’m too far! I’m not fast enough on my own, you need to come and get me! Quick, Nanoha! A Jewel Seed of such power could wreck untold devastation if we don’t get it under a Barrier!’_

Twin tails of hair flicked wildly as Nanoha frantically scanned for a safe place to change. Another pulse from... was that a pillar of light she could see between the high-rise buildings? She moved back, craning to get a better look. It was! Secrecy be damned, she had to get there and stop the damage as fast as possible.

“Raising Heart! Please!” she called, desperately, and the cool, calm voice of the gem responded reassuringly as it blazed with pink light and enveloped her, running along her arms and encircling her torso as her Barrier Jacket dissolved into existence.

[Alright, my master. Set Up, Ready.]

The staff landed in her hands as it always had, and after an experimental twirl, she set her hands in the new grip as she had been taught. Holding it properly, it felt a lot more secure, and she felt a rush of confidence as she took to the sky. The stares from below were ignored as she focused on Yuuno’s location and pushed herself as fast as she felt safe going towards him. She could deal with the aftermath of being seen later, speed was of the essence here. She didn’t know how much time she had before the Jewel Seed did serious damage, but long experience listening to her parents discussing the logistics of operating a small business and the fragments of combat strategy she had heard her father teaching both told her that it was best to assume the worst case scenario.

In this case, the worst case scenario was that the Jewel Seed had already done an enormous amount of damage, and would continue to do more with every second she delayed. Which was why, as she moved through the air fast enough that the streets below were a blur, weaving around tall buildings and other obstacles with the minimum deflection necessary to avoid them, she called ahead.

_‘Yuuno! Get up on top of something high! I’ll pick you up without stopping!’_

She barely had time to process his affirmative before she was almost on top of him, eyes instantly drawn to the tan shape balanced on top of a lamppost. She dipped down below the roofs, bringing a rush of air in her wake that howled as it was drawn down between the buildings, scattering the detritus that littered them and almost bowling many of the pedestrians over as she passed overhead. She slowed fractionally as she passed the lamppost, and the tiny form _leapt_ as she came near it, arm outstretched toward it. A corona of green magic surrounded Yuuno as he jumped, and she plucked him from the air, veering up again at speed sufficient to be little more than a white blur as the ferret clung on grimly to her shoulder, claws digging into her Barrier Jacket to maintain their grip.

Turning at the zenith of her climb to face the Jewel Seed, she deflected the first blow by a mixture of pure reflex and sheer luck. It came from nowhere, a savage golden blade crackling down towards her face that she was barely able to turn aside with her staff, dropping several feet as she processed what had just happened. Fate’s eyes were like steel as she came back for another strike, and rather than block her, Nanoha turned and fled towards the Jewel Seed, a pink-wreathed comet hurtling through the evening sky.

A high pitched whistle in the air and Yuuno’s mental shout gave her ample warning this time, as a trio of shots arced after her, splashing off the shield Yuuno raised. Frowning, she pulled upwards again in a loop, releasing a barrage of her own to slow the other girl down. If she wanted a fight that badly...

... except apparently she didn’t. Barely spending the magic to shield herself, the blonde girl was already moving at a ridiculously high speed, shooting away from them in the direction of the Jewel Seed. Left behind, her familiar turned her attention to Nanoha, orange chains whipping out to bind and slow her. A few dozen seconds of frantic dodging left Nanoha higher than she had been, backed by the moon, but every time she turned her back on the wolf, half a dozen shots flew at her or another glowing chain whipped out to snare her.

 _‘Nanoha! You go on ahead, I’ll keep her from following!’_ Yuuno tensed on her shoulder and leapt into the air in front of her, a circle forming to support him. Her stomach fluttered uncomfortably.

_‘What about the Barrier?’_

_‘The other girl will probably put one up! Anyway, the important thing is getting there and sealing the Jewel Seed before it can do any more damage! Go now, I’ll stop her from holding you back!’_

There was no time to argue or debate the point. Turning on a heel, Nanoha pushed herself faster than she’d ever moved before; streaking across the sky with such speed that her vision narrowed into a tunnel in front of her and the ground below became nothing more than a blur. The yellow dot ahead of her... expanded. Slightly. She wasn’t catching up, but she wasn’t falling behind, either.

At least until the other mage noticed her pursuit and turned, doubling back to charge at her in a blazing aura of gold. From below, it looked like two comets leaving streaked trails as they soared towards one another on a collision course, lit by the moon and stars, and the reflected glow from the city beneath. Nanoha caught a split-second view of Fate’s face, lips tense and eyes hard, before the shock of the collisions sent them both hurtling back. Rather than back off and recover, she pushed herself forwards again, arcing back towards the Jewel Seed and curving in towards Fate. Another bone-jarring, cataclysmic crash of Device on Device, and Nanoha thanked every star in the heavens for her sister’s merciless correction of her grip and stance - it was the only thing allowing her to keep hold of Raising Heart as the two trails of light spiralled around one another, dipping towards each other and clashing repeatedly as they shot towards the pillar of light in the downtown city, sparks flying out from every explosive impact to fall like luminescent rain towards the awed and terrified citizens below.

...

The doctor smiled reassuringly at the young brunette, looking over the clipboard at the end of her bed. The illness was still progressing, but slower than it had been, and the risk of organ failure had dropped back to highly unlikely levels for now. Cheerfully advising her to take it easy and get plenty of rest, he left the room and headed along the ward to check in on the next patient on his list, a young leukaemia patient. He remembered her from previous visits, pink hair cropped short for the treatment until only stubble remained. She was miserable under the diet regime, too, and he considered ways to cheer her up as he strolled along the-

“Dr Mato!” A hand on his shoulder turned him, and he raised an eyebrow at one of the porters, who looked a little out of breath. “Sorry Doctor, uh... you said you wanted to be told immediately when the test results from the blood analysis arrived. They’re on your desk, sir.”

“The blood- ah, yes! Thank you very much.” He smiled at the young woman, who blushed slightly at the attention she was getting. Tall, young and with an open, friendly face under the crown of spiky black hair, the doctor was something of a heartthrob amongst the hospital staff. Sadly, he was also an oblivious one, as proven when he completely failed to notice her reaction and instead turned to look back along the corridor.

“Hmm... as long as I make it quick, I should be able to skim over the results before I’m due to look in on Miss Yoshida,” he mused. “Alright then. Thank you again for informing me. I’ll be downstairs in my office for the next few minutes if anyone needs me, alright?”

Stepping out of the lift on the ground floor, he whistled idly and frowned, trying to recall where he’d heard the tune. It sounded like... J-pop? Or maybe one of those new American bands? Repeating the whistled strains that he could recall, he concentrated on them, trying to force the memory up and bring the title to mind. Something about... fate? Fate bringing anguish, maybe. Lost in thought, he almost missed the strange glow coming from the bare, concrete flight of stairs leading downward on one side of the corridor.

Almost. But not quite. Curiously, thoughts of songs and blood analysis forgotten, he approached the strange blue light coming from... those steps led down to the morgue, unless he missed his guess. It wasn’t the normal lighting down there - that was white, and nowhere near powerful enough to filter all the way up the steps.

What was going on down there?

His curiosity was on the point of overriding his caution when the matter was decided by a roar from below and a wash of light so intense that it left him blinking sunspots from his eyes. That settled it, whatever was happening down there was clearly _not natural_. Throwing caution to the winds, Mato rushed down the steps and flung open the door to the morgue. Cold air rushed out, ruffling his hair and sending goosebumps over his skin as he stared.

There was a body on the slab. An autopsy, no doubt, which looked like it had still been in progress when... whatever it was, had happened. The doctors who had been conducting it lay limply on the floor, thrown across the room and into the bare concrete wall and the row of body storage lockers by the same wave of force that had apparently sent everything within ten yards of the autopsy table flying.

Except... it wasn’t the body that they had been flung from, he was willing to bet. It was the gemstone, hovering above it, blazing with a purple-blue radiance and sending a pillar of light too bright to look at directly straight up into the ceiling. As he watched, wide-eyed, it slowly lowered itself into the still-open body cavity of the corpse, where the light dimmed somewhat, though the pulsing pillar of light remained.

Mato gulped. This... this was freaky. Freaky, and strange, and wrong. He started violently as purple-blue arcs of static crackled out from the central body, crawling over the walls, the floor, the lockers -one of them even brushed across his arm, eliciting little more than a mild tingling. Biting his lip and hoping that the effect was just some harmless ionised light trails or... or something, he hurried over to his colleagues. The older man first, the senior surgeon who would have been performing the autopsy. The man’s wrinkled, balding head lay motionless against the floor, but his hands were slowly scraping at the floor, trying to get purchase so that he could get up again. That was a good sign, if he still had manual dexterity and was acting purposefully; he wasn’t in such bad shape that Mato needed to be worried. Yet.

Kneeling at the man’s side, he touched his shoulder and gently took his arm, bracing himself to lift him to his feet. A rasping wheeze left the other doctor’s mouth as his hands scrabbled at Mato’s arm, clinging to the sleeve. Frowning, he carefully rolled him over - was his airway blocked? Was he worse off that the first impression had suggested him to be?

The body turned at his guidance, slumping round onto its back, and Mato went very, very pale. The movement lifted the elderly man’s neck, which it became clear was bent at an impossible angle, far beyond what was natural. Looking closer, the young doctor could see several of the broken bones misaligned beneath the skin - a compound break, death should have been instantaneous. As if that wasn’t enough, the front of the man’s skull was slightly caved in from the force of the impact against the unforgiving concrete wall - he should be dead, every ounce of knowledge Mato possessed told him the man was dead. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t felt a pulse, either.

And yet... he was still moving.

Blank, rheumy eyes blazing with the same light as the hovering gemstone stared up at Mato as another laboured wheeze was forced out of protesting lungs, blue-violet radiance spilling from the corpse’s mouth as it opened. The hands continued to scrabble at his arm - not seeking aid, they were gripping, holding him in place! With a yell, he swung his free fist into the corpse’s face, putting all the strength he had behind the blow.

It barely reacted. The head lolled back, yes, with the sickening sound of broken bone grinding on bone, but its grip on his other arm only tightened. Hearing a shuffling sound from behind him, he wrenched at the adamant grip to no avail - the corpse was somehow far, far stronger than any living human should be, let alone a dead one. The wizened fingers tightened further, like steel clamps enclosing his forearm in a vice-like grip, and began to pull back with unnatural strength.

The door of the morgue was thick, and designed to swing shut on its own if left open. No sound from within escaped it to filter up to the corridor above.

...

_Duck._

Fate slid under a horizontal slash from Nanoha’s staff and silently cursed the name of whoever had taught the girl how to hold it properly. Her speed and responses had jumped sharply now that she knew how to use the damn thing in combat, and Fate had a nasty feeling that she was looking to repeat the smack to the face she’d given her last time they fought. As Nanoha peeled away, accelerating straight upwards to avoid a counterattack, Fate found cause to curse again, more colourfully this time. Half a dozen pink spheres were almost on top of her - the brunette must have cast them before attacking and set them to follow her in, shielded from sight by her own body.

As close as they were, there was no time to bring her guard back into position or cast a shield. With a grunt of effort, Fate threw herself back and to the side, accepting two hits to avoid the rest. The blows felt like hammers on her right arm and hip, drawing a wince and a grimace from her as she ground her teeth to keep from crying out. Kicking off from her place hovering in the sky, she followed the pink trail, arcing round a building and coming into line of sight of the point of origin of the pillar of blue-violet light that marked the Jewel Seed’s presence. Her breath caught in her throat, as it had in that of the white-clad mage hanging in the air close by.

The building below was unmistakeably a hospital.

A choked sound from Nanoha snapped her out of the horrified moment as the girl dived towards the building. Fate barely even thought, snapping out a couple of Photon Lancer shots reflexively as her opponent opened her back to her. There was no thought behind it, only pure reflexive reaction to an opening. Yet, even had she had the time to think, she would likely have done the same. Nanoha... she was strange, that was true. A rival for the Jewel Seeds, and she’d hit Fate in the face with her shooting Device, which the blonde still felt a certain amount of (in her opinion) justified hostility over. But she was also kind, and had tried to be understanding, and had tried reached out to a stranger who had done nothing but attack her. And while she was improving rapidly, her skill still left something to be desired.

Not, in short, the kind of person Fate wanted near the hospital below. The force of the Jewel Seed within was chilling in its intensity, and it was still building, still getting stronger.

A pink shield absorbed her shots as Nanoha landed on the hospital roof, a bright white figure against the grey concrete, and she started to run towards one of the access doors. Fate swooped down after her, hesitating momentarily as she realised there was still no Barrier up. Did she have time to cast one?

The end of Nanoha’s hair tails flicked out of sight, the rusted metal door creaking closed behind her, and Fate hissed in frustration as she set off after her in pursuit. She couldn’t allow Nanoha to get to the Jewel Seed first, and casting a Barrier wasn’t something she had much experience with - barely any, in fact, it was Arf’s area of expertise, not hers. In the time it would take her to force the spell through, Nanoha could get halfway to the Seed, and with a lead like that the risk of losing it to her altogether was too high.

The door slammed back open with a yank, and the rooftop was left empty once more as the rivals descended into chaos.

...

Chikaze Yoshida was scared. It was something of a change of pace from the past few weeks, in which she had mostly been feeling ill, sick, weak and tired, sometimes all at the same time. But as changes went, this was not a particularly good one.

The light had been the first sign. She couldn’t see the source, but the hospital grounds outside her second floor window were awash with a blue-violet glow that looked like nothing she’d ever seen before. The closest analogy she could make was, perhaps, the sudden bursts of illumination from fireworks going off, but this was a steady brightness, not fading or dimming.

That wasn’t so bad on its own. But then the screaming had started, from the floors below. And stopped occasionally, and then restarted again, sometimes louder. Chikaze shifted uncomfortably in her bed. She was _meant_ to be seeing Dr Mato, who was nice and friendly and looked a bit like her uncle. But he hadn’t shown up on time, and now there were crashes and screams coming from downstairs, and she didn’t know what was going on.

Setting her jaw, the eight-year old levered herself out of bed and leaned on the infusion stand that stood beside the headboard, pausing as a rippling wave of nausea bubbled up her throat. Holding very still, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, knowing from long experience that this particular side effect of the chemotherapy was not one she could just ignore. After a few moments of strained breathing and shivering, the nausea and light-headedness subsided slightly, leaving her with a sudden urge to cry. It wasn’t _fair_ that she felt so horrible. Why couldn’t her body just be _better_ without all the feeling-horrible-ness? Why did-

Sighing heavily, and cutting those thoughts off as unproductive, she tested her balance carefully before hobbling towards the door, pulling the stand along with her and wincing as spikes of pain shot up her legs with each step. The cramps were another side-effect, made worse by her lack of activity sitting in bed all day. Before she’d been diagnosed, she’d been active, but the past few months had been spent getting progressively more and more out of shape, unable to exercise. Her constitution was too frail, the doctors told her. She couldn’t take it.

It _sucked_. And she couldn’t even show how much it sucked, because that would make Mummy and Daddy worried. More worried. They were already upset whenever they visited her, and while they tried to hide it, they didn’t do so very well.

The corridor was noisy and bustling, not with the businesslike sense of purpose she was used to, but rather with a kind of contained panic, the effect of everyone being scared and nobody knowing exactly what they were scared of.

It wasn’t long before they found out. The door to the stairwell burst open, banging loudly on the wall and rebounding back in again. It stopped short against the female figure that now stood in the doorway, with pale skin and the occasional crackle of blue-violet static - the same colour as the all-pervading radiance outside - that skittered over her body in jagged, zigzagging arcs from point to point. This was clearly evident, because the only thing she wore was the remnants of a body bag draped over it, holes torn in it for her face and limbs. A trickle of blood ran down her right leg past the tag around her ankle, most likely from wounds hidden by the body bag. She was a tall blonde woman, brown eyes dulled and hair falling in limp curls around her shoulders, and she let out a rattling gargle that held everyone’s horrified attention as an alien light - the strange, blue-violet light that was becoming familiar - shone, far brighter than the illumination outside or the static crawling over her, from her mouth, her eyes and from the thin red line across her throat.

“Th- that’s- i-it’s-” stuttered one of the porters in horror, and all hell broke loose as people turned and fled, screaming in terror. Chikaze huddled against the wall and clung tightly to it as they stampeded, ears ringing at the din. She got buffeted once or twice by passing bodies, crying out herself as her ribs protested at the treatment and agony lanced through her chest. Her infusion stand was yanked away hard by a collision, and she screamed as the needles were jerked out in a single, sharp movement. It took almost a minute for the corridor to clear, screams and crashes fading away into the distance and the relative safety of the upper floors.

Another of the creepy death-rattles made her shrink into the slight alcove she had found in the wall, scared for her life, but the high-pitched, terrified whimpers that accompanied it drew her immediate attention. Spinning round, she noted with a little confusion that the... the _thing_ hadn’t made a single move to go after the fleeing people, instead apparently choosing to attack the door and walls, beating pale hands into them and, scarily, fracturing both the plaster and the concrete behind it. The whimpering, though...

A wheelchair lay overturned on the floor, its wheels spinning uselessly as the brown-haired girl it had housed tried desperately to pull herself away from the monster. Its attention seemed to have been caught by her struggles, though, and it was already turning, the rattling sound of air being forced out of its lungs accompanying the unnerving glow from within. Chikaze stared at the helpless girl, who looked back with petrified, pleading eyes. And though she was frightened, she still found enough courage to act.

“H-hey!” she shouted at the walking corpse, stumbling over to the other side, away from the wheelchair-girl. “Hey, over h-here! Look at me! Look at me, here!” It hurt, it hurt desperately, shouting and moving like this, and she could feel the strength already fleeing her limbs, the gnawing, biting fatigue setting in even from so little activity as this.

The thing didn’t turn. Didn’t even seem to notice her, its entire focus on the prone girl, who was sobbing with fear, tears trickling down her cheeks as she scrabbled at the floor to gain purchase, trying to pull herself away. The air around the monster began to shine, the terrible light within leaking out into the space around it, and it slowly started to move, in a hungry, predatory way, towards its prey. The world seemed to slow for Chikaze as she took in the situation and a solution presented itself. Nausea bubbled up again at the thought, but she gulped air and held her breath and screwed her eyes shut to ignore it and force it down again.

Then, unsteadily, shaking like a leaf, the pink-haired girl gathered every ounce of energy she had and charged. She let out a wild scream as she ran, pushing herself through the pain in her legs and the terrible, yawning emptiness inside that sucked down her energy in a seemingly endless torrent. She wasn’t big, and she wasn’t heavy, so she had to be fast. Fast like she used to be, fast like before the treatments, fast like when she was on the school track team and won races and never felt sick.

For the briefest of moments, it felt like she had that speed and effortless, boundless energy again.

Then she crashed into the thing from its blind side - not that it had been paying any attention to her anyway - and rebounded from the bigger, heavier body, cracking her head on the linoleum floor as she fell and bouncing slightly as her limp, exhausted body hit the floor, totally spent. But the damage had been done. She hadn’t been moving very fast, and she didn’t weight much, but she had hit the walking cadaver when it was unbalanced, and that made all the difference. Without even the instinct to throw its arms back to catch itself, it toppled over and crashed down the flight of stairs it had just ascended, toppling another that was following it up. A sharp, echoing crunch filtered up the staircase as its skull met the bottom of the stairwell, and it lay still.

She lay there, panting, until the repressed nausea surged back up and she had to turn her head and vomit, coughs wracking her slight frame. A touch on her shoulder drew her attention as she hacked out the last of it, and she turned to see the wheelchair girl, brown hair cut short and blue eyes filled with a mixture of fervent gratitude and worried concern.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, and Chikaze realised she must have dragged herself across the floor to check on her. Nodding through the choking coughs, she waved the girl back towards her wheelchair and cleared her throat. “C’mon,” she croaked, “we need to... need to get out of here.” And indeed, she could already hear shuffling sounds from further down the stairs. More of the things were coming, no doubt, and neither girl was in any fit shape to evade them. Still, they could try. And would. Painfully, jaw set grimly, she crawled over to the nearest wall and began the painstaking, arduous task of pulling herself to her feet, only to find that her knees and ribs were simply refusing to cooperate. Face pale and fearful, she turned to the wheelchair girl, who returned the expression as she realised what it meant. They were stuck.

“I...” she laboured to say, fatigue dragging at even her words now, “you need... to...”

Whatever she was trying to say was lost, though, as part of the ceiling four or five metres down the corridor caved in, and a white-clad figure fell through and slammed into the floor with a resounding thud that rattled pictures all the way down the hall. Chikaze wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought she heard something splinter under it. Seemingly unharmed by the fall, it rolled out of the way just in time to avoid a second figure, this one black-clad and yellow-haired, come down on it with some sort of... glowing scythe? Was she hallucinating?

She remembered the eldritch glow from within the corpse-thing and decided that no, she probably wasn’t. She tried to shout at the two blurry shapes, which seemed to be fighting, but only produced a quiet rasp. The girl beside her wasn’t so limited, and her yell cut through the clash of battle like a knife.

“Hey! You two! Help me! Something’s wrong with her!”

Both figures froze, and turned. Nanoha paled as she saw the two girls, one lying awkwardly on the floor, the other almost bald, with only a fine pink stubble covering her head, propped up against the wall with her eyes half closed. The tone of her skin and her laboured breathing did not look good, and Nanoha traded a mortified glance with Fate.

“We didn’t put a Barrier up,” she whispered in horror. The other girl was standing very, very still, eyes riveted to the pink-haired girl. At Nanoha’s words, she jumped slightly, though she still looked... queasy? Guilty? She couldn’t tell in the brief moment it lasted before being displaced by a mask of purpose. The shuffling from the stairwell grew louder and the brown-haired girl let out a moan of fear.

“They’re coming back...”

“Alright,” the blonde girl declared, abruptly all purpose. “I’ll see what’s coming and hold them off. You get that one back into her wheelchair, and then cast a Physical Heal on the other. And contact your familiar, tell him to stop fighting, get here as fast as possible and cast a Barrier the moment he gets close enough. I’ll tell Arf the same thing.”

“I... I’ve never cast anything like that before...”

Fate shot her a flat look, already moving a little way down the corridor and bringing Bardiche round. “Would you like to swap jobs, then?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow. Nanoha flushed a little as the icy comment found its mark - Fate was giving her the easier job, by most measures - and hurried over to the girls. Helping the shaking brunette back in her wheelchair, she bit her lip, ignored the girl’s confused, questioning gaze and knelt beside the other, younger one, who was propped up against the wall.

“Raising Heart,” she whispered, “please. I can’t do this on my own; you’re going to have to do most of it for me. Sorry.” The sound of magic shots came from the stairwell, but she ignored it, focusing on the girl.

[Alright, my master,] the gem in her staff’s head replied reassuringly, pulsing with a soft pink light. [Physical Heal.]

Light bloomed. Not dark and twisted, this was a soft radiance the colour of cherry blossoms, which soothed and calmed and healed. Chikaze’s eyelids fluttered as she seemed to get a second wind, a gentle warmth spreading within her to exorcise the fatigue and nausea, still her trembling muscles and even out her laboured breathing. The world sharpened again, and she blinked up in confusion at the relieved smile of the girl kneeling beside her, white-clad and holding a staff with a great round ruby in its head over her chest, from which the light emanated.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the girl whispered happily, blinking back... were those tears? She certainly seemed genuinely ecstatic that she was awake, that much was for sure. “Are you feeling alright?”

Chikaze thought about it, mildly surprised at what she found. She could still feel the slight hint of nausea coiled around her stomach, and her arms and legs still felt weak and a little bit prone to trembling. But nothing like it had been, and the pain and exhaustion were almost completely gone. It was as if she’d just woken up after a long and refreshing night of sleep, something that itself had been worryingly rare of late. With a tentative smile up at the girl, she nodded.

“Yes, much,” she replied, “... uh... thank you.” The girl’s smile only grew wider, and she glanced over to her... friend? Enemy? The other girl, who was in the middle of beating back another dead body with the same glowing scythe she had been using when they came through the ceiling.

The white-clad girl stared at the mobile corpse in surprise and horror for a moment as the scythe-girl wrenched it off its feet and kicked it back down the stairs, but then seemed to regain herself. “Get somewhere safe and wait there,” she commanded, speaking both to Chikaze and the wheelchair girl. “We’ll try to... to get rid of the ones we pass, but a few of them might get past us.” She seemed to consider something and then, with an honest and slightly embarrassed tone, continued, “... and also we might do a little bit of damage to the building, though we’ll try really hard not to. It... just sort of happens.” She got up, hurrying over towards her scythe-wielding companion with her staff in a more combative position, and set a barrage of pink shots loose on another of the things. She threw them one last smile and a wave over her shoulder as the pair descended, and then she was gone, with only the hole in the ceiling and the debris to show that either of them had ever been there.

The girls stared at each other, trying to fit this latest impossibility into the insanity of the last few hours. Levering herself upright and leaning on the wheelchair for support, Chikaze mulled over things for a moment, staring at the empty stairwell. “... she’s right,” she decided after a moment, putting the issue to one side with the simple ease of a child accepting the impossible and bending with a faint wince to pick up her infusion stand from where it had fallen. She inserted the needle back into the thingie in her arm - cannula, the doctor had called it - with a pout. She hated needles. Sighing, she took hold of the stand and moved back over to the other girl. “We need to get back into a room and stay there. Maybe block the door with something, too.” She gestured down the corridor. “Mine’s just down there. Uh... I’m Chikaze, by the way.” She bit her lip uncertainly. Mummy and Daddy’s visits were nice, but it would be nicer to have someone she could talk to while they were away. “Um... do you want to be friends?”

The glowing smile turned her way, she decided as she half pushed, half leant on the bars of the wheelchair, rolling it back towards her room, probably counted as a ‘yes’.

...

On the next floor down, a fragile peace was holding. The mutually agreed-on ceasefire declared for the sake of the girls had, surprisingly, not dissolved immediately. Awkwardness hung heavy in the air as they descended, knocking the corpses aside with carefully controlled shots, neither girl willing to be the one to initiate hostilities again.

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. The dead people attacking them were more than enough justification not to break their truce, even disregarding any other factors. There were more of them down here, all with the same pallid, clammy skin tone and body-bag coverings. The smouldering light within them that shone out of their wounds and in their eyes and mouths was beginning to disturb Nanoha, and she shivered as they cut, shot and blasted their way along the corridor, mechanically doing her part to keep them back.

“What _are_ they?” she muttered to herself as a trio of Divine Shooter shots knocked one down; not wearing a body bag, this one, it looked healthier, and was wearing clothes. Clothes, she realised, which had blood all down one side, likely from its missing arm. She shivered again, closing her eyes in grief. The things seemed to mostly just be wandering around and attacking the walls and furniture - and sometimes even each other - but if they were attacked, they were more than willing to divert that aggression towards the source of the attack.

Fate swatted one into the wall with her scythe, which cratered nicely and sent a display case crashing down on the thing’s head. “Bodies from the morgue, I would guess,” she replied, “animated by the Jewel Seed. That’s where we’ll find it.” She skipped around a clumsy lunge from a burly, rasping man and nodded in thanks as Nanoha swept it off its feet with Raising Heart. “They’re... they’re not people,” she added, with more confidence than she felt. “The Jewel Seeds would have used anything nearby, like that one in the river which used the water.” A frown skittered across her face as she turned away - the other girl’s added proficiency with that damned staff was not going to help matters. The thing seemed to radiate malevolence - she could almost feel it _looking_ at her, as if eager to smash her in the face again.

... she was probably imagining things on that score. Still, she was not looking forward to the inevitable resumption of hostilities. Scowling, she refocused her irritation on the animated marionettes, spotting the stairwell they were spilling out from, a little further down the corridor. Time for something a little more advanced that Photon Lancers.

Falling back a little, she motioned for Nanoha to cover her. “I think they may be reacting to magic, as well as attacks,” she explained, “and this is going to put out a lot. So they may rush us.” Nanoha nodded grimly, fingers tightening around her staff, and set herself stubbornly between Fate and the advancing corpses. The blonde girl raised an eyebrow as she began to draw power for the spell, a golden Mid-style circle blazing to life at her feet. Granted, they were theoretically cooperating, at least for now, but... to turn her back on Fate and guard her without a moment’s hesitation? The girl was either incredibly trusting or profoundly naive. Or possibly both.

“Bardiche,” murmured Fate quietly, and the idea of catching Nanoha in the attack hovered at the edge of her mind, tentatively. If she made it powerful enough, at this range, it would almost certainly take the girl out in one shot. And it would dispose of the rest of the marionettes on this level as well, so she’d be safe, and then Fate could get the Jewel Seed quickly and easily and get it back to Mother and everything would be fine, and...

... and she watched the girl, as the power around her climbed - slower than she could have drawn it up, preoccupied as she was. Brown hair tails bounced as she bashed a tall man in the face, sending him stumbling back into two others and clearing a space in front of her. The movement turned her enough for Fate to catch a glimpse of her face, determinedly set in a protective, stubborn frown. She had no doubt that, for all the insanity of it, Nanoha would hold the things off her until either they ran out or she collapsed. She made her decision.

[Photon Barret,] announced the black scythe, and a storm of golden lightning roared out, arcing out along the walls and ceiling of the corridor in great jagged arcs. It shot off to the sides as it left the Device, leaving a void directly in front of it, curving around the guarding form of the white-clad mage and raining down on the marionettes that she held back. The blue-violet radiance surged around their bodies to no avail; the torrent of electric gold ripped through it and sent them spasming to the floor, where they lay still. The advancing wave ran down the entire length of the corridor, arcing from the surfaces to any marionette it passed, until it hit the end of the wall with a thunderous crash, blowing out the window and dispersing itself into a fading cascade of yellow motes drifting down towards the ground.

“... wow,” said Nanoha, lowering her weapon. “That was... uh... impressive.” She turned, grinning at Fate with a sheepish, slightly embarrassed air. “You’re really good. And... I was sort of half thinking you might shoot me when I turned my back.” She raised a hand to the back of her neck and chuckled shamefacedly. “Silly of me, I guess. Sorry.”

“... let’s just get this over with,” muttered Fate, a little guilty that she had even considered it. Moving warily into the stairwell, she noted that the ones in here seemed to have been caught by the periphery of the blast.

“There will be more, on the ground floor,” she noted as they descended as quietly as possible. Pale but determined, Nanoha nodded, and she continued. “If you take up a guarding position again, I can destroy all of them the same way, and we can get onto the Jewel Seed itself.” Another nod, and they paused on the last landing, only one flight of stairs above the corridor. The shuffling and crashing as the marionettes laid waste to the scenery were clearly audible.

“Okay then,” decided Nanoha, taking the lead. “On the count of three.” Her hand raised to signal the countdown, but she was cut off abruptly as a shiver passed through the hospital, a trembling pulse from some way away. Colours dimmed, and the light filtering in from above took on a dimmer, greyer tone. The girls traded a glance. Either Arf or Yuuno had just got close enough to raise a Barrier. It wouldn’t be long before the two arrived in person, and both of them knew that their cooperation likely wouldn’t last long after that.

“... three,” decided Nanoha, and in unison, they charged. The first barrage of shots from both of them cleared the immediate corridor just outside the stairwell, and Nanoha moved into the gap, shooting and smacking with Raising Heart in what was, if not particularly high level staff fighting, then at least controlled and enthusiastic. Fate followed after her, circle already forming around her feet, power beginning to hum in Bardiche as she once again set the boundaries for the spell. They weren’t walking corpses, she told herself, they were just _things_ , animated by the Jewel Seed, and that meant they were no scarier than any other Jewel Seed...

... given that she still had terrifying moments occasionally, when she realised that she had nearly blocked those exploding shards of ice, that wasn’t nearly as reassuring as it could have been. Okay, Fate thought, the light in front of her getting brighter, they were a Jewel Seed, and that’s how they were taking blasts that would have sent a man flying, but at least there were lots of them, so it was splitting its power, and so she and Nanoha could take them out much more easily... and maybe that meant that the Jewel Seed itself would be weaker!

Then one of the corpses grabbed Nanoha’s wrists, and everything went wrong. Her hands immobilised, a yank pulled Nanoha away from Fate, and she screamed, closing her eyes. Fate dismissed the half-formed spell instantly and went to help, but the glowing marionettes crowded in around her hungrily, forcing her onto the defensive. Teeth gritted, lips pulling back in a snarl, she forced them off with a combination of casting and pure ferocity, the glowing blade of the scythe almost leaving streaked trails in the air from the speed at which it hacked and slashed.

A flash and a small explosion announced Nanoha’s return to the fray along with a cluster of pink shots picking off some of the crowd around Fate. She caught a glimpse of the other girl through the mob and her own blurring defence, carefully aiming her shots to pick off the corpses from behind, her sleeves reforming from motes of light. Had she just _detonated_ part of her own Barrier Jacket to escape? The girl was insane!

And that was when an enraged scream erupted from somewhere further down the corridor. Knocking back the last of her attackers, Fate looked for the source, and blinked as she found it to be Arf. Her familiar looked furious, angrier than she had ever seen her... and then Fate realised what the situation must have looked like. Her, fighting a group of walking dead, with Nanoha shooting at the group. Fate knew her wolf-like friend. The chances of her realising that Nanoha had been aiming for the corpses, not Fate herself, were... low. Still, she tried, if only to forestall the conflict until after the Jewel Seed was sealed and safe, no longer a threat.

“Arf, it-”

Too late. Orange magic flaring around her in a furious corona, Arf charged. Green light blossomed behind her as the ferret entered the fray, and a frantic glance from Nanoha somehow managed to convey shock, sadness, resignation and apology all in the same split second expression. ‘It was nice while it lasted,’ the look said. ‘I’m sorry it’s over.’

Then Arf was almost on top of her, and she was fighting again, both of them were, splitting their attacks between the few remaining marionettes and one another. As the ferret caught up, his chains and binds drew Arf away, and it was just the two of them again, clashing with the same stubborn determination on both sides.

“Give up,” Fate ground out, forcing the staff back as Nanoha held her blade off in a block. She had learned a few moves, it seemed, and got her basics firmed up, but she still didn’t know any advanced techniques for dealing with a more skilled opponent. And Fate still had an ace to play. “There’s a _reason_ I need the Jewel Seeds,” she growled as Nanoha’s arms wobbled slightly, before the white-clad girl disengaged and backed away, a speeding green barrier forcing Fate to do the same as the ferret spared a moment from his conflict with Arf to help Nanoha out. Her familiar made him pay for the lapse in focus, concentrating her anger into a series of savage bites that forced him to dodge frantically and flee for his life.

“If you’d _tell_ me the reason,” shouted Nanoha back at her, readying another half-dozen shots, “then maybe we could resolve this without fighting! I can’t trust you if I don’t know what you’re planning with them!”

The news would make her falter, that much Fate was sure of. And if she did it right, that lapse in concentration would give her a window to snap up a bind on the girl, and from there knock her out and get the Jewel Seed. Arf was safely occupying the annoying ferret, he wouldn’t be a problem. Then she could come back after the Jewel Seed was safely stored in Bardiche and talk things over with the girl like Mother had told her too, and convince her to help them. Everything would be just as planned.

“It’s for-” she started, and a two-metre section of the wall beside them exploded. Ears ringing from the noise, eyes stinging from the dust and debris, they stared at the billowing cloud as a malevolent glow radiated out from it. As it cleared, it revealed the form of another marionette. But this was nothing like the ones they’d been cutting down in the rest of the building. The light formed a shroud around this one, a glowing aura that shifted and writhed. A long, y-shaped incision covered its bare chest, from which the light shone with a brightness too great to look directly upon. The sheet tangled around its legs and waist didn’t hinder its movement in the slightest - it floated about a foot above the ground, head lolling sideways, hanging limply as if held up by a hook in the centre of its chest.

Or rather a Seed. For there, at the point where the Y-incision branched, rested the Lost Logia they had been looking for, humming with an eerie, rasping crackle. It seemed to be supporting the corpse, manipulating it inexpertly, crudely. But the eyes... though the head lolled sideways, unsupported, the eyes didn’t blaze with the unnatural light. They were focused, albeit confused, and filled with pain. The man was... no, alive was the wrong word. Aware, at least partially. In agony. Reanimated.

“Huuuur...” rasped the man, and the Seed in his chest rasped as he did so, producing a horrible dual-toned resonance to the vocalisation. “Pleeee...”

The Seed, however, had other ideas. It pulsed once, the probing wave of light washing over the stunned, horrified girls. For a moment, the body hovered higher, the arms coming out to point at them, and purple lightning crackled over the body in even greater amounts, filling the air with the stench of ozone.

Then it turned, spinning in midair to face the far end of the corridor. Accelerating away from the girls, away from the fighting familiars, it pulled the animating magic from every corpse in the hospital, deep streaks of indigo rushing into it from all over the building, and fled.

...

It was still scary. If anything, it was even scarier now, back in her room with a chair wedged against the door and the muted sound of explosions coming from below, than it had been... was it only a few minutes ago that she had got up and gone out to see what was happening? It seemed longer. Hours ago, maybe. And the nausea was returning, now that the chemotherapy drugs from the stand were flowing back into her system, and the colours didn’t help. The blue-violet radiance outside had been muted, along with everything else, a few moments ago. Chikaze had watched through the window as a wall of monochrome colour and stillness had swept across the grounds, covering the hospital completely. As it did so, the distant sounds of the city had halted, leaving only the muffled cacophony from downstairs and her own breathing in an otherwise eerie silence.

Still. It might be scary, but Mummy had said when she started the treatments that she had to be very brave, even when she was scared. And she’d already seen, out in the corridor, that when one person was scared, other people got scared as well. So for the sake of her new friend, Chikaze put on a brave face and smiled, and chatted about ordinary, everyday things, and tried not to let the other girl see how her hands were shaking slightly or how her breathing was a little faster and shallower than was normal.

They had just got onto the subject of family, and Chikaze was describing how her mother fussed over her, when the diffuse light outside flared a deep indigo and abruptly shut off, shortly before an explosion rocked the hospital. Looking out of the window and craning her neck to see towards the source of the blast, Chikaze caught a glimpse of the cloud of dust and debris billowing out from a huge hole in the wall as a figure ran through it, heading away from the building at speed greater than any human could run at.

... no, wait. It wasn’t running. It was _floating_ , a slack form hanging in the air as if supported by wires, moving along at a rate of knots. It was wreathed in a deep indigo glow that blurred and distorted its form, making it difficult to pick out details, but that didn’t stop the shining bullets that smashed into it from behind, sending violent ripples through the aura but failing to penetrate it. The girls from before, Chikaze deduced, just as they made an appearance, flitting out like glowing comets to pursue the thing and trading shots with one another as they did. They weren’t alone, either - there were animals with them, an orange wolf and something small and nimble which nonetheless shone green with power and sent chains and shields out to hook and snare the retreating monster.

“Wh- what’s going on?” asked her friend, staring at the light display and the fast-moving figures. Chikaze had no answer for her, though. Mystified and scared, she shook her head and kept watching, hands clenching nervously at her sides.

...

Nanoha was getting frustrated. The Jewel Seed marionette was refusing to stay _still_ \- it was dodging most of her shots, heading for the edge of the Barrier, and the few that got through were deflected by the aura it had up around it. It was infuriating! And Fate wasn’t helping, throwing as many attacks at her as she did at the fleeing corpse. When she was actually fighting in concert with her familiar, rather than going one-on-one against Nanoha while Yuuno and Arf fought their own match elsewhere, she was a lot more formidable; the two together were a fighting force greater than the sum of their parts, and Nanoha was being made painfully aware of the lack of coordination and teamwork she and Yuuno suffered from.

She ground her teeth, scowling. Fine then. There was another surprise she’d been saving for her next match with Fate. It was still mostly theoretical, but she figured it should work, as long as she got a few free moments to cast it.

 _‘Yuuno,’_ she sent telepathically, _‘I need you to keep them off me for a minute or two. Please?’_

The tan ferret flew over to her, pausing over her shoulder. He was panting hard, getting tired from the number of barriers and binds he had been throwing, but his voice was steady as he replied. _‘I’ll do my best. Ignore anything I don’t warn you about and focus on whatever your plan is.’_ He cut off abruptly as another barrage of yellow and orange shots slammed into a hastily erected barrier, and Nanoha breathed deeply, focusing on the light and warmth within.

“Raising Heart? Shooting mode,” she commanded, and the Device obediently reformed into its spear-like configuration. This attack would take a large chunk of what she had left, but it wasn’t something that the fleeing Jewel Seed could dodge or absorb. A visor slid across her face as she aimed Raising Heart carefully, a ring of pink runic script appearing around it. Two smaller ones faded into being as it moved down the staff, forming a barrel pointed straight at the marionette’s back, and a window appeared in the visor, highlighting her target and prompting minor corrections to her aim.

Fate’s eyes widened as the ball of pink energy grew at the tip of the Device. So did Yuuno’s, and Arf’s. That was... a lot of magic. An awful lot of magic. Was she really going to...

“Raising Heart! Ready?” the girl called, and her Device pulsed affirmatively, speaking the name of the spell along with her and adding a mechanical undertone to her voice as she shouted it.

“Divine! BUSTER!”

To its credit, the Jewel Seed did its best to avoid the enormous beam of energy. However, facing an attack that was very nearly the width of the entire road, there simply wasn’t anywhere to dodge _to_. The wall of pink magic smashed into it with the force of a freight train and lifted it up, hurling it dozens of yards into a solid wall, which produced an interesting splintering sound and a small crater. The aura around the body ceased as it went limp, and the Jewel Seed detached, floating up and hanging in the air as the unnatural light radiating from it faded, replaced with a soft blue glow.

[Jewel Seed XIV, Sealed,] announced Raising Heart, with what sounded like a faint air of satisfaction.

“...” said Fate, staring. Beside her, Arf whined slightly in disbelief. That had been almost as powerful as her Thunder Smasher! And this girl had only been using magic for a month or so? How could she have learnt that kind of an attack so quickly? Not to mention gained the control and power needed to pull it off?

“...” said Yuuno, blanching. He had thought Nanoha’s unusual skill was merely a product of Raising Heart’s advanced nature and the synergy it had with her natural skill set, but that... that was _impossible_. There was no way she should be capable of something like that so soon, it signified a rate of growth that was nothing short of unnatural!

“... okay,” said Nanoha, oblivious to the shock she had caused with her new spell, “now it’s sealed.” She started towards it, Raising Heart held out to pull the Seed into storage within itself. Her movement snapped Fate out of the mildly horrified daze, and she threw herself towards the Seed as well, racing to get there before Nanoha did. She was faster, but Nanoha was closer, and the gap wasn’t small enough for her to make it up and overtake. They reached it at the same time, Devices smashing together over the soft glow of the gemstone, and all their remaining magic was thrown into the furious struggle to seize it, pouring power into the retrieval spells and pulling the Seed in two directions at once as the black axehead of Bardiche ground against Raising Heart’s golden ring.

Torn between the two pulls, and with magic pouring into both attempts to claim it, the Jewel Seed shuddered as long-dormant programming was activated. Activated incompletely, crudely, by nothing more than a brutal wrestling match of magic to decide which Device claimed it, but activated nonetheless.

The Jewel shone for a moment like the heart of the sun, filling the world with a blinding, searing radiance.

And then it _screamed_.

...


	5. Chapter Four

The Jewel Seed screamed, and Nanoha screamed with it. The pain was like nothing she had ever felt before; a grinding, searing, blinding agony in her skull that felt as though she was being stabbed in the temples with cruel knives that were at once red-hot and ice-cold. She fell back, and the pressure took her, a vast weight pressing down on her chest until she thought she heard her bones creaking, slamming her away from the Jewel Seed and pinning her to the floor as if there were a mountain atop her. Beside her, Raising Heart lay where it had fallen, golden ring fractured and tarnished, and a jagged crack running through the ruby core at its heart. She whimpered - when had she stopped screaming? When she no longer had the breath for it, as the crushing pressure drove the air from her lungs and made it hard to even twitch? Nausea churned in her gut, strong enough to almost drown out the shrieking pain in her head, and had she been able to gasp for air, she would likely have thrown up. Dimly, she saw movement in the corner of her eye, but the light was too bright, and the pressure too great. She couldn’t get up, couldn’t rise to help whoever it was... couldn’t even turn her head to look.

She wasn’t aware of it, but Nanoha was far from the only one to be suffering the effects. In the hospital room above, Chikaze groaned and shivered on the ground, clutching her head as spikes of agony lanced through it. Nausea churned up from her stomach in an unstoppable tide and she rolled over onto her side to vomit, hacking and coughing as she struggled to breathe. Beside her, the wheelchair lay once again on its side, its owner twitching on the floor as trickles of blood ran from her ears and eyes. Her breathing was shallow and uneven and her eyes were unfocused, staring blankly at nothing.

Across the city, people fell. Some screamed, dropping whatever they were doing as the agony struck like a lance or an invisible vice tightened on their chest, forcing the breath from their lungs like a hammer. Others merely winced, leaning dizzily on walls as sudden, painful headaches bloomed. In the Takamachi household, plates and glasses shattered on the floor as Momoko fell, gasping for air, against a row of shelves. The wave of effects rolled out further, across the country, across the world. China, Russia, America, Europe... the severity faded as the distortions crossed thousands of miles, but they were felt nonetheless. Cars screeched and veered in the streets, ploughing into lampposts and buildings. Pedestrians swayed and crumpled in the streets as the unaffected bystanders around them stared in confusion. It continued out into Dimensional Space, an expanding ripple of magic through the fabric of spacetime, churning up turbulence and sending sensors into screaming alerts as it passed them.

And at the maelstrom’s epicentre, a figure stood up, leaving her damaged Device on the road beside her. She stood shakily, with trembling legs and gritted teeth, as tears pooled in her eyes. But she stood nonetheless, and slowly started to force her way, step by painful step, towards the heart of the quake, the blazing pillar of white light that impaled the sky. The tremors were destabilising the dimensional barrier already, and the sky wavered in ripples of violet and grey as phantom figures faded into view around her - hundreds of them, the patients that had been evacuated from the hospital, separated from the perilous situation by only the thin skein of dimensional distortion that held barrier-space apart from the real world. She was probably visible to them, too... indeed, more than a few were looking at her, their blurred, indistinct features nonetheless registering surprise and panic. If the barrier broke completely, the damage from the quake would spill over into normal space - the civilians wouldn’t stand a chance. Barrier Jacket blistering and flaking away, Fate forced her own magic into the mana-saturated surroundings, trying to swath the Jewel Seed in it and crush the developing quake into submission before it ripped the planet apart.

She wasn’t the only one. On the opposite side of the pillar, green light flared around a small tan shape as Yuuno sent forth chains and planes of light to bind it. The mounting pressure within felt uncomfortably like the first few stones of an avalanche falling - not much yet, compared to what would come, but leading in an inexorable progression towards a cataclysmic upheaval of Dimensional Space that would leave the dimension he stood in shattered. His magic delved into the developing catastrophe, and he desperately started to work to cut it off and keep it from building any further.

Fate scowled, sweat breaking out on her forehead as she ruthlessly suppressed the urge to retch. _Something_ was suppressing the magic she was pouring into her efforts to quieten the rising storm of mana being put out by the Jewel Seed. She tried to locate it, but there was just too much magic in the air - she could barely distinguish between what was _hers_ and what was from the Jewel Seed, let alone anything else. Teeth grinding over one another, a growl forcing its way up out of her throat, she forced more power into the binding, plunging her hands into the pillar as it expanded outward. It felt like fire and ice and razors, shredding and burning and freezing her hands for an eternal moment, only for them to heal and the process to start over again. But though her throat turned raw with the effort of bottling the scream that tried to rip its way past her lips, she persevered, and the expansion halted.

Yuuno hissed, needle-like teeth flashing as his fur bristled. He wasn’t good at this - he hadn’t even been able to seal the first Jewel Seed, let alone _this_ monster! And something was interfering with his binding, dampening the spell and leeching the potency of the effect out of it. He could _feel_ the quake getting away from him - if it broke free from the temporary, artificial lull it was in, it would devastate the region! Eyes flaring a vivid emerald, he frantically dumped everything he had left into the spell as a blazing viridian aura sprang into life around him.

The scream that Fate had been keeping bottled up ripped itself loose with the impact. It was like a hammer blow to the Linker Core, and for a moment her resistance to the effects of the quake wavered, blinding pain splitting open her skull and the wet, sour hand of nausea reaching up her throat to bloat her tongue and make her gag.

“... Arf...” was all she managed to rasp out, but it was enough. The orange-haired wolf had no Linker Core of her own, and while the effects were filtering through from Fate, she wasn’t as inconvenienced by them as her master. Snarling as she caught sight of the green light flaring on the other side of the pillar, blocked from Fate’s sight by the incandescent column of light, she snapped at him viciously and sent a volley of Photon Lancers at the immobile shape in the middle of the light show. Caught unawares, and with the majority of his magic tied up in trying to suppress the Jewel Seed, Yuuno didn’t stand a chance. One of the orange shots caught his slight frame full on, and he was sent spinning and tumbling away across the ground, unconscious.

The mental struggle for control that Fate had been engaged in abruptly lightened - not enough to be easy, but enough that she was no longer being forced back. With her magic once again free to work without interference, she forced her way deeper into the pillar, squinting as the heat-cold-razors beat down on her face, drawing goosebumps from it and sending phantom tracks of sharp pain down her cheeks and across her forehead. The light was so bright that she could see it even through closed eyelids, and her arms felt like they were on fire, but she kept going. The Jewel struggled with her for freedom, screaming and flaring as it bent the very fabric of dimensional space around it. Around her, the light shifted impossibly, a blue tint falling over parts of the surroundings even as others bent towards red and orange. Dust from the explosions and destruction gathered in clumps, hanging in the air like tiny clouds. Above her, the sky _tore_ , great purple strips ripping open onto a turbulent, maddening sea. And still, Fate continued to pour magic into her sealing spell, flashing through the equations and variables as fast as her mind could handle them, leaning into the blistering, boiling pillar in a silent, never-ending _war_...

And then it broke, its strength exhausted. The pillar shrunk, light fading and tremors ceasing, as Fate cradled its source to her body, squeezing it between her palms and hoarsely whispering the calculations and parameters of the sealing. Steam wisped off the tattered remnants of her Barrier Jacket, ripped and torn where it had shielded her from the brunt of the effects. The Jewel Seed, dormant once more, lay peacefully and innocently in her cupped hands. It didn’t look like something that could lay waste to a dimension, and a painful chuckle at the absurdity of the situation forced its way past the blonde girl’s lips as she allowed Bardiche to take it into storage.

Then her gaze fell on Nanoha. The girl lay whimpering on the tarmac of the road, curled up foetally next to a puddle of vomit. She had stopped twitching, at least, but her face was tearstained and the quiet sobs were clearly audible in the silence. Glancing up at the openings in the sky and the phantoms still crowding the road, slowly gaining definition and colour, Fate hurried over and gently picked up the girl in a bridal carry. From the looks of things, the barrier was about to collapse, and it would be best if they weren’t here to suddenly phase into existence in the middle of a crowd when it did. Grabbing the Devices from the ground and motioning for Arf to follow her, she took to the air and flew a few roofs over, searching for a safe spot to set down.

Nanoha whimpered at the sudden sense of motion, her senses swinging crazily and screaming at her brain in white-hot lances of stabbing pain and disorientation. The arms that encircled her were gentle, though, and avoided jostling her as much as possible. She stared up, blearily trying to see who it was through the tears and the haze of bright light and swirling colour, but picking out any detail was impossible, and a fresh stab of pain as the light tore down her optic nerves like a bolt of actinic lightning.

“Hey there,” the blurred, distant figure said, putting her down on the cool concrete. Nanoha rolled over and clung to it, tears running down her face. Breathing hurt. The air felt like water as she pulled it into her lungs, and held an oily tang she couldn't readily identify, but which made her want to retch. “It really hurts, doesn't it? The first few times Mother did it to me so I knew what a close-up massive magical discharge was like, I couldn't get out of bed for days.” Two hands were on her side, rolling her back onto her side into the recovery position. “You'll probably be sick, too, so you don't want to be on your stomach.”

A cool hand on her brow made the pain recede a little, and she felt her hair being stroked sympathetically. The motion calmed her a little, and the nausea receded slightly as Fate -her head had cleared enough to work out who it was - spoke again. “You'll want to keep your eyes open. If you close them, your brain will get even more confused.”

“... but,” Nanoha swallowed, tasting the brightly coloured air, and shuddering at the sight of the halos of coloured light around everything she could see, “... too bright.” She tried to rise, struggling to prop herself up on her elbows, but her head swam as she did so and she retched again. Dry retches, to boot, she had long since thrown up everything in her stomach. The hands pushed her down again, cradling her gently as she moaned in discomfort. “Stay down... no, Takamachi-san, _stay down_. Your Linker Core is still fluctuating. It'll be interfering with your other senses, including your balance.” Nanoha only half-heard her, dizzily trying to focus through the haze of sensation as her inner ear told her that every direction was up. Her stomach rebelled again, sending her into another round of wracking dry heaves.

A wavering announced the Barrier’s departure, along with an abrupt jerk and the sudden return of colour to the world. Fate winced. That had felt wrong... it was likely that at least some of the damage had carried over. And that was on top of the damage that had been done before it went up. She gently shook Nanoha’s shoulder, waiting until the girl gave a slightly questioning whimper that Fate took to mean she was paying attention.

“I need to go, Takamachi-san. You’re safe here, and you should be able to get down fairly easily once the effects wear off. Once you do, I strongly suggest you go straight home, eat something, and then sleep. You’ll need it - your system has just taken a battering. Please, stay out of this. It’s my fight, it’s too dangerous for you” Another moan, and a weak hand gripped Fate’s ankle pleadingly. Biting her lip, she hesitated. On the one hand, she _really_ needed to get home. On the other... the girl was obviously uncomfortable, and the effects weren’t likely to wear off for an hour or so. Leaving her alone did seem a little heartless.

Reaching a decision, she fingered Bardiche. It was damaged- badly damaged, having taken the full brunt of the initial outburst as the quake ripped free from its housing. Had it not been for the Devices and the protection afforded by their Barrier Jackets absorbing most of that initial shockwave, she realised, both of them would probably be dead. First the icy bombs that ripped chunks clean out of existence, and now this? She shivered. The mission was getting more and more dangerous by the day. Still, despite its damaged state, Bardiche was probably in good enough condition for this, and she had no energy to spend on more mental calculation for today. Whispering soothing reassurances to her rival, she gently cast the spell, seeking out the body’s natural soporific triggers and prompting them into action. In any normal situation, the girl’s own magic and her Barrier Jacket would prevent manipulation like this, but she was in no state to oppose Fate at the moment. Her breathing slowed, and then deepened, evening out into a steady rhythm of slumber. She would stay under for an hour or so, at Fate’s best guess, and be... if not refreshed, then at least functional, when she awoke.

Giving her shoulder one last, vague pat, Fate dragged herself to her feet and took stock of herself. She... _probably_ had enough magic to fly back to the penthouse. Yes, and Arf could always catch her if she didn’t. Reassured, she set off, blearily remembering to fly high enough that she wouldn’t be seen as much more than a vague black dot in the sky by anyone who thought to look up from below.

She would get back to the penthouse. Have a glass of water to wash the taste from her mouth. And then sleep, for as long as possible. And if anything woke her up early, she would shoot it until it stopped moving. And avoid using Bardiche. Let him self-repair.

Yes. That seemed like a good plan.

...

“-No!”

Nanoha jerked violently as she woke, her legs and chest tightly tangled in the covers from where she had been thrashing in her sleep. Her arms instinctively jerked forwards and upwards against the constricting cloth, and the motion threw her balance over to the right, finishing the job that the rolling and turning of unsettled sleep had started. With a loud thump, the nine-year old hit the floor. Hard.

“... oww...”

Taking a few moments to catch her breath before attempting to get up again, she lay there, staring up at the ceiling and allowing her mind to wander. The raw fear of the nightmare lingered faintly, but the exact details were, thankfully, already beginning to fade from her memory. A crushing, impossible pressure making it impossible to breathe, tightening inexorably around her chest with no signs of stopping, a screaming, blinding agony splitting her head in two... the Jewel Seed’s destruction had left its mark. Though perhaps the scariest had been the blank, lifeless red eyes staring at her out of the slack face that led the lurching corpses - a face, she had realised with horror, that she _recognised_.

Shivering, she turned her thoughts away from the lurking terrors of the night and allowed the cool wash of sunlight over her face to drive them away. As she glanced over at the cushion resting on her desk, her face fell slightly. Resting on the soft surface, the polished marble that was Raising Heart’s storage form rested. It didn’t look as pretty as it usually did, though. The cracks and splinters that ran through it had healed somewhat since the previous night as its self-repair system did its work, but there were still fractures running across the ruby-red surface, and its usual gleam was nowhere to be seen.

More worrying still, Yuuno was nowhere to be seen. Her memories of the quake itself were hazy, but she was fairly sure he had been there. She hadn’t seen him last night... but that wasn’t surprising. As exhausted as she had been, it was only a mixture of pure luck and her mother’s similar reaction to the quake that had allowed her to get into the house and up to bed undetected. Her eyes darkened again as that thought came up. _Again_ , innocent people had been hurt by the Jewel Seeds. Worldwide, from what she had heard the kitchen radio saying as she snuck upstairs. Not to mention the poor people from the hospital...

Pushing the thoughts aside, she focused on the immediate problem. No Yuuno. He had been there last night, and... she bit her lip with a hint of shame as she realised she had totally forgotten about him as she had limped back home. So that meant... that meant that he was probably still out there somewhere! And that he had spent all night in the cold! And there were... cats, and things! Half-panicking, Nanoha sent out a wide-spread telepathic broadcast, as loud as she could.

_‘Yuuno-kun!’_

The response, when it came a few seconds later, was faint, groggy and rather annoyed.

_‘... urgh, my head... what is it, Nanoha?’_

_‘Yuuno-kun! You’re okay! Um... you are okay, right?’_

A short pause passed before he answered again. His tone was matter-of-fact, but the sarcasm layered under it was not difficult to pick out. _‘Well,’_ he began, _‘I sort of took a dimensional quake to the face yesterday. Admittedly not a very powerful one, but I was only a few metres from the epicentre. And then I got shot at almost point-blank range while I was trying to bind it, and then lay there unconscious for what was probably a few hours. And was rained on. And then when I woke up, I spent another hour or so searching for you - unsuccessfully, I should add - and then had to run away from another cat, and barely managed to climb up a drainpipe to escape. And now I’m on a windowsill... somewhere. It’s raining again. And you just woke me up with a shout that I’m fairly sure I could have heard from several dozen kilometres away. So... upon careful consideration, I would have to answer that with a resounding **no**.’_

_‘...’_

_‘... sorry,’_ he relented. _‘I’m a bit... frustrated, at the moment. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Where are you?’_

 _‘Uh... home. I got back safely last night.’_ She considered, momentarily, telling him about how Fate had helped her, cared for her. But... no, he was already in a bad mood. Telling him about what the blonde had done for her wasn’t likely to improve it. _‘Um... do you need me to come and get you?’_

_‘... I have no idea where I am. So... uh... no, that probably wouldn’t help. I’ll try and find a landmark I recognise, and then go from there.’_

She nodded. That seemed like a good plan. And she didn’t have school today, so she could probably find an excuse to go and pick him up once he figured out where he was. _‘Alright! I’ll see you soon, then!’_

Still, despite the reassurance that Yuuno was safe, something nagged at her. Fate had... probably saved her life, yesterday. She had been kind, and gentle, and helped Nanoha even when she was unable to move, throwing up and moaning in pain. It would have been easy to finish the job she had started and put her in hospital again - this time for long enough to ensure Fate would have collected all of the remaining Jewel Seeds by the time she got out. Even if that was too cruel for the blonde, it would have cost her nothing at all to just leave Nanoha there.

But she hadn’t. Just like she had held to her truce, until her familiar had got the wrong impression. Just like she hadn’t taken the opportunity to shoot Nanoha in the back. She seemed, in every action she took, to be an honestly, genuinely _good person_. And when she had claimed to have a reason for hunting the Jewel Seeds - a reason she had been about to reveal when the Seed itself interrupted - she had looked sincere.

In and of itself, that was only confirming what Nanoha had already been fairly sure of. The girl’s face was kind, if determined, and she was obviously fighting for something she truly believed in. But now there was another factor. Yuuno had been adamantly opposed to letting the other mage collect the Jewel Seeds. After being told about the damage they could do in the hands of someone who didn’t understand their power, and who set them off accidentally, Nanoha had agreed wholeheartedly. And yet... last night seemed to prove that Fate _did_ know what she was doing. She had shut down the quake, which means she was entirely capable of recognising a developing catastrophe and averting it. And that was on her own, and even without her Device, at least as far as Nanoha could blearily remember through the fog of pain and nausea.

Why, then, was Nanoha fighting her?

This was complicated, grown-up stuff. For a moment, the nine-year old’s thoughts set her a course towards that undisputed dispenser of all knowledge and wisdom in the universe, Mama. But... no, her mother was asleep at the moment, wasn’t she? Recovering from the same symptoms as Nanoha; symptoms she had shown in reaction to the quake. Which was a bit odd, but... a mystery for another time. With Mama unavailable, the young girl turned to the next-greatest source of advice on moral dilemmas she could think of.

Picking her way up off the floor and extracting herself from the tangled blankets, she went in search of her big sister. And also a glass of water to help with the lingering nausea.

...

“Uh... Miyuki-neesan?”

Nanoha’s voice was distracted as she asked, carefully moved through the drills and letting the white oak flow through the guard and attack stances she had been shown with studied precision. In front of her, moving with a far more fluid ease, her sister cast an assessing eye over Nanoha’s stance and nodded approvingly. She was a little tense, and still not fully comfortable with the stances, but she was already getting better.

“Hmm?” she replied, swinging her own bokken through a complicated disarming twist before stepping back quickly and coming forward with an overhead strike. The air hissed as the wooden blade sliced through it, and she brought it to a stop as it hit the horizontal, drawing back into a guard stance.

“Um... I kind of need some advice.”

Oh ho. Miyuki’s eyebrow rose slightly; though her little sister was concentrating too hard on the simple exercise she was running through to notice. Setting the bokken gently down, the older girl began to drag out a stand and some scrap wood for her next exercise. Pretending to be mostly absorbed in setting up a couple of old planks at shoulder height, held in position by the two support clamps of the stand, she paid careful attention to Nanoha’s body language out of the corner of her eye.

“Advice? On what?” She grinned a little mischievously, taking the rare opportunity for some sisterly teasing. “Love troubles, maybe?”

“M-Miyuki!” Nanoha sputtered indignantly, and the mixture of shock, embarrassment and outrage on her face forced the older girl to clamp a hand over her mouth to hide her giggles. “Okay, okay,” she backpedalled, waving her hands in surrender, “I was just teasing, little sister.” Nanoha pouted petulantly at the unashamed admission of guilt, and Miyuki threw her another fond smile in silent apology. Allowing Nanoha a little time to recover her composure, the swordswoman-in-training focused for a second and drew a deep breath in with her diaphragm, sinking a little lower in her stance and finding her centre. Then, in a single motion, she released the breath and struck forward in an overhead cut that blurred through air and scrap wood alike with a smooth hiss. It was followed almost immediately by the sound of wood on wood as a chuck of the plank hit the floor, cleanly severed from its original position.

“So then,” she continued, stepping back and coming forward again in another strike - diagonal, across the shoulder and down. Another piece of scrap wood clattered to the floor. “If not your love life - kidding, kidding! What _do_ you need some advice on, then? How can I help?” She smiled encouragingly, then frowned when she realised Nanoha had stopped moving, and was standing still and nervously fiddling with her jo staff. Calling her kata to a halt, she propped the practice sword up against one of the stands and moved across to her little sister, gently taking the staff from unresisting fingers and laying it to one side. Pulling Nanoha down to sit beside her, Miyuki threw a comforting arm across her shoulders in a friendly hug.

“Okay, so this is serious. What’s wrong, Nanoha? Talk to me, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“... um...” Nanoha bit her lip, uncertain. “I... there’s a girl, who’s- we’re sort of rivals. And... um... we’ve been in a few fights, and... things. She’s a nice person, I think, we were just... like Papa said once, about how sometimes you can respect and even sort of like someone, but they’re doing something you’re opposed to, and while you can understand, you can’t let them do it. Only I sort of... you know how Mama felt really sick yesterday? I was like that too, and F- the girl, um... she was there, and she helped me when she didn’t have to, and was really nice and kind. And at the same time, I sort of found out that the reason I have for not- for opposing her, might not be such a good reason after all. Except... um, I’m not totally sure about it, and... basically I’m confused. And... what should I do?”

Miyuki considered carefully. It wouldn’t do to rush the issue, not given the importance Nanoha seemed to be placing on it. She hummed quietly to herself for a few seconds as she thought.

“... have you fallen out with Arisa?” she asked tentatively, guessing at the possible cause of Nanoha’s troubles. It was a long shot, but the fiery blonde certainly fit the criteria Nanoha had described.

“No... well yes, but that’s not what this is about.” Nanoha leaned into Miyuki’s shoulder as the older girl reached over to stroke her hair reassuringly. “She’s being _stupid_ ,” she complained, “and refusing to talk to me, so... fine. She’ll come back of her own accord when I can explain everything to her. Till then, I’m letting her do what she wants.”

Miyuki made very sure not to betray her reaction to the hints that Nanoha was letting slip. When she could explain everything? That meant that for some reason, she thought she couldn’t do so at the moment, that something was stopping her. Very interesting indeed. Aloud, she hummed in noncommittal agreement and continued the reassuring hug, combing a few odd tangles out of Nanoha’s hair with her fingers. The nine-year old relaxed bonelessly into the sensation, which was a pleasant break from the exertion of the staff training.

“So if not Arisa... hmm. Okay,” Miyuki bit her lip on probing for more details. At least for now, Nanoha would be better served by her giving the best non-specific advice she could. She considered the information she had, reviewing it carefully - context would make things _so_ much easier, but life was never fair like that.

“... it sounds,” she started carefully, “like you’ve been on the opposite side to this girl for a while now, yes?”

A slight nod. Nanoha stayed quiet, waiting for Miyuki to talk her way through the explanation.

“And your quarrel, whatever it was... both of you thought you were in the right, and at least on your side, you could see why she thought that way. You just thought your reasoning was better.”

Another nod, and Nanoha snuggled a little closer. Miyuki gave another comforting squeeze and continued.

“So your problem now is that she’s shown herself to be... even kinder than you thought? Or just kind enough to put your safety over the quarrel you two have. And at the same time, your reasoning has taken a knock, and you’re wondering whether she might not be in the right after all. Is that it?”

“Well,” Miyuki smiled softly, “it may sound obvious, but the first step is to _talk_ to her. One of you is going to have to acknowledge that the other one has a point, and if you do that, she might accept that you had a good reason, too. Then you just need to talk things over and decide who’s right.”

Silence, as Nanoha thought about this. Miyuki waited patiently, still running her hand through the younger girl’s brown locks. Eventually, Nanoha nodded tentatively.

“Thank you, Miyuki-neesan. You’ve been really helpful. Um... I need to go think about things for a while. Can we keep practicing when I come back?”

She sounded deep in thought, but there was genuine gratitude there as well, and the uncertainty was gone. Miyuki smiled happily, deeming the conversation a success. She still didn’t know exactly what Nanoha was talking about, but it seemed that her advice had cleared things up somewhat.

“Sure, Nanoha,” she agreed cheerfully. “Anytime.”

...

Beeping. It was incessant, a sinuous irritant that wormed its way into her ears and penetrated her skull, pulling her tug by tug, beep by infuriating beep, out of the peaceful depths of slumber and once again into the too-bright, too-loud, feeling-ill and all-around generally horrible waking world.

Had Fate’s sleep-addled mind been in any condition whatsoever to process mathematical calculations, she would have shot it.

“Arf,” she slurred, “kill the bleepin' thin...”

[Call waiting, sir,] announced a crisp, mechanical voice. It drew a moan from the exhausted, fully clothed girl lying sprawled on the four-poster bed, and she rolled over and pulled a pillow over her head to escape the strident tones. A moment passed in relative silence, and then the pillow flew back across the room in the opposite direction as Fate’s sluggish thought processes joined the dots together and realised who the call must be coming from.

“Ahhh! Mother must have been waiting... argh, and she’ll think I was ignoring her!” Snatching up the gently pulsing triangle of yellow metal, she made a stumbling dash towards the office, not helped by the fact that one of her legs had gone to sleep at some point in the night, and she was therefore forced to proceed with a rather ungainly half-limp.

The connection opened smoothly, revealing the pale face she knew so well. It was frowning in displeasure. That was not so good.

“Fate,” began Precia, her tone sharp. The terseness and the telling lack of a suffix drew a flinch from the blonde girl, but she gave Fate no chance to respond or greet her, instead cutting straight to the chase. She gave Fate no chance to greet her, instead cutting straight to the chase. “Thank you for finally responding, I am sure you had far more important business that could not wait.” Fate flushed in shame, and Precia continued. “Would you care to explain the reason that the Garden was rocked by a _Dimensional Quake_ last night? Every sensor within four dimensions must have felt it! I _specifically asked_ you, Fate, to keep the Lost Logia activity _low-key_. I even blocked the messages being sent out to the TSAB - that ferret, almost certainly. And now you allow all of my hard work on your behalf to be ruined by a Dimensional Quake that all but announces your presence to the Dimensional Sea at large, for all to hear! Your explanation for this had better be _extremely_ good.”

“I... um...” Fate’s lip was trembling, but she made a valiant attempt to square her soldiers and answered with only the barest tremor audible in her voice. “The Takamachi girl and I were fighting, when-”

“Fighting? With the Takamachi girl? That’s strange, Fate,” interrupted Precia. Her voice was soft and she affected an air of confusion, but the sting in her words was dripping with venom. “I was under the impression that I gave you very specific orders regarding her. ‘Explain your position’ was the gist of it, if I recall correctly. ‘Bring her over to our side’, as an end goal. Is there a reason you ignored this objective as well? Perhaps out of a desire for completeness, given that you disregarded the others? I suppose you’re now going to tell me that you failed to retrieve the Jewel Seed itself, so as to make it three for three?”

Fate reeled under the verbal laceration, feebly defending herself, “I... no, Mother, I have the Jewel Seed. And I managed to take steps toward subverting Takamachi as well.”

A thin eyebrow rose. “By _fighting_ her?”

“No... I was on the verge of explaining my reasoning when we were interrupted by the Jewel Seed - it had animated... constructs, and we were forced to dispose of them first.” Her voice firmed somewhat as she slipped into a clinical recounting of events. “And after the quake, she was hurt - sick from the quake, and I helped her. She will likely be better disposed to me in future.”

“Hmm.” Precia’s eyes were still narrowed, but she refrained from any further verbal attacks in favour of gathering more information. “Constructs? What kind?”

“B-” Fate swallowed hard, tripping over the word, “bodies. Human bodies. It... was in a hospital, and... the Seed itself was in a dead body. Reanimated. It... it was puppeting the... the body.” She shivered hard and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the images out of her mind.

“... interesting. And you sealed it?”

“Y- well, not entirely on my own. Takamachi-san weakened it first, with a...” Fate took a deep breath, anticipating what was coming next, “... with what I estimate to be an A-rank bombardment-type spell on par with my own Thunder Smasher.”

There was a pause of several seconds.

“... impossible,” stated Precia flatly. “She has known about magic for less than two months.”

“Bardiche?”

[Transmitting data, sir.]

Precia’s eyes flicked across the screen, widening slightly at the replay of the pink beam of destruction the girl had fired. Casting an experienced eye over the readings picked up from the spell by Bardiche, she let out a low, impressed breath.

“... impressive,” she eventually decided. “Very impressive. Her talent is putting you to shame, Fate. How long has she had this Device? Clearly, you must work harder, considering how slowly you are progressing compared to her.” She observed the further slumping of the girl’s shoulders, the slight flinch as her words hit home, and a slight smirk formed on her lips. “You have damaged Bardiche as well, I see.” A long-suffering sigh. “Very well. The situation is... difficult, and problematic. And will require considerable work to fix. You will report home, back to the Garden, and Linith will make the repairs to Bardiche. And you will leave the Jewel Seeds you have collected so far with me.”

“Yes mother.”

“Good. I expect to see you this evening.”

“Yes mother.”

With a soft flicker, the connection closed.

“Fate-chan?” questioned Arf as her master walked slowly into the living room. “Um...” She faltered at the hollow expression the blonde girl wore, uncertain of what to say. Fate’s face was a blank slate, and for several seconds she simply stood there, staring blankly forward at the wall-spanning window that looked out across the city. Then she seemed to gather herself with a pained breath, and come back to reality.

“We’re going home this evening, Arf,” she informed the orange-haired woman, prompting a happy smile.

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed broadly, bouncing happily up and down on the couch. “I can show Linith my ramen and you can spend time with Precia-sama and-”

“Be packed and ready to go by the time I get back,” Fate cut her off, and quietly retreated towards the elevator, leaving a blinking familiar behind her. Arf sat down on the couch in mild confusion and scratched her head, puzzled by Fate’s sudden quietness. Deciding to put it aside and do something to cheer her master up later, she turned her attention to her orders.

“Right! Packing!” She stood up determinedly, eyes blazing with enthusiasm for her assigned task.

“... hmm. Where did I leave all the bags?”

As Arf pondered the mystery of the missing suitcases and began to methodically turn the penthouse upside down in search of them, Fate set a brisk pace towards the city centre. The sting of her mother’s admonishments was still sharp, though slowly fading to a dull ache. A present, she thought. That would be a good first step in showing Mother that she was sorry, and then she could work much, much harder from now on to make her proud. Maybe something to eat - she didn’t at all like how thin her mother was becoming, or the coughing fits that were slowly increasing in frequency.

Half an hour of searching yielded nothing, however, and a frown was just beginning to creep onto her face when a familiar-looking facade caught her eye. A second look brought the details to mind, and Fate paused, interested.

... well, she _was_ supposed to be subverting Takamachi-san, wasn’t she? And knowing a little more about her family couldn’t hurt. And it wasn’t as if the girl herself was likely to be in there. Besides which, the scents wafting out of the door of freshly baked pastry were... tantalising.

Nodding to herself with the clear air of one who has genuine and perfectly justifiable motives for walking into a shop full of delectable, delicious-looking confectionery, Fate squared her shoulders and marched through the door of the Midori-ya cafe.

Stepping through the door with a happy little shiver at the burst of warm air from an overhead heater positioned above the entrance, Fate scanned the shop instinctively. It was an open, inviting place, with polished wooden flooring and comfortable booths nestled up against the windows. Most were already taken, at this point in the afternoon, by a mixture of chattering schoolchildren and adults enjoying hot drinks and a snack.

Put on edge by the crowds, Fate slunk over to one of the smaller, unoccupied booths. Out of the open, away from all the people, she relaxed fractionally and craned her neck to look at the selection of cakes at the main counter, where a brown-haired woman she recognised as Takamachi’s mother - Momoko, if she recalled correctly - was taking orders. Any thoughts of actually going up there to get a better look at the confectionary were out of the question - Fate was fidgeting nervously as it was, and the number of people ordering was far larger than she was comfortable with. Despite the volume of the orders coming in, though, the woman didn’t seem to be having any problems. She dispensed smiles and nods, taking cash and quoting prices with an ease that made the multi-tasking and mental arithmetic seem effortless. She looked friendly... maybe Fate could wait until the throng had cleared a little, and then go up and buy something quickly?

“You know, you’d get a much better view from up there. You don’t have to stay in your seat.”

Fate jumped at the casual remark, snapping round to focus on... the sister? She searched her memory for the girl’s name, drawing a momentary blank. Apparently realising that she had startled the young blonde, the older girl smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. Or I can bring you the dessert menu, if you want?”

“... uh... yes, thank you. That would be... good. Thank you.”

With a grin and a wink, the waitress - Miyuki, Fate finally remembered, her name was Miyuki - left, strolling over towards the counter. For her own part, Fate bereted herself for allowing the girl to sneak up and surprise her, even - no, _especially_ since she hadn’t even been trying to do so. Mother was right, she needed to work a _lot_ harder.

This time, she saw the girl coming back before she arrived, and essayed a tentative smile of thanks as she... sat down in the booth with her? Fate blinked, confused. Wasn’t she supposed to be... waitressing, or something? Miyuki caught her puzzled look and shrugged cheerfully.

“I was about due for a break, and... you looked a little lost and alone. I thought you might want some company. Do you mind?”

“Ah... no?”

“Great!” she grinned. “I’m Miyuki, by the way.” She produced the menu she had gone to fetch, shifting round to sit beside Fate in the small booth. “Now, I know they all look good,” a grin, “but trust me, you want to try the chocolate gateau. I had earlier this afternoon and it’s _divine_.” She gave Fate another conspiratorial wink and Fate found herself smiling shyly in response, causing Miyuki’s smile to grow. “Any preferences on a drink?” she asked, and Fate returned her attention to the laminated menu, drawn in by the friendly manner of the girl.

“Um... I’m Fate. And... hot chocolate?” she asked, and Miyuki nodded cheerfully, sliding off the seat with a “be right back” and making for the counter again. Fate watched as she nudged her way behind the counter and had a short conversation with her mother between orders, culminating with the older woman rolling her eyes and dismissing her daughter with a laugh. Looking rather satisfied with herself, Miyuki made her way back to the table, precariously balancing two mugs of hot chocolate and two plates bearing slices of a chocolate cake that did indeed, Fate had to admit, look gorgeously decadent. Seeing that the older girl was struggling, she sprang up to help and got a grateful smile in response.

Settled, and sipping at their hot chocolate, Miyuki pinned Fate with an interested look. “So,” she started, lowering the cup and leaning forward, “forgive me if I’m prying, but... you looked really lost and scared when you came in. And you sound a little unfamiliar with the language, too. Are you not from around here?”

Fate was ready for this. Bardiche allowed her to at least talk to the natives here, translating for her internally, but it made for an odd infliction to her voice and language. And she didn’t exactly look native, although she shared a few features in common with the local population on this bit of the Unadministered World. Luckily, she had a cover story prepared.

“Yes,” she nodded, sipping at her own cup - which was actually very good. She looked down at the chocolate beverage in mild surprise and took another sip, a smile forming. Glancing back up at the waiting Miyuki, she blushed a little and continued. “Ah... yes. I moved here quite recently with my aunt, who’s on business. From abroad. I’m still not familiar with the area, or the... crowds.”

“Ahh,” Miyuki nodded in understanding. “Small-town girl? The big city hits a lot of people like that. I was a little freaked when I first moved here, too. You get used to it.”

Fate nodded, though she had a hard time believing that anyone could grow accustomed to the millions of people that thronged the streets of the bustling city. She kept her reservations to herself, though, making a noncommittal noise of agreement. “Mmm. When I was growing up, it was mostly just me and Arf and Linith and Mother. This...” she motioned with her head to the crowded cafe, and the wider cityscape outside it. “It’s jarring.”

“Give it a while. It’s weird for the first few months, then you sort of fall into a routine.” Miyuki took a bite of her cake, and shuddered in pleasure. “Mmm. Really, you need to try this. Gorgeous.” She tilted her head in thought for a moment. “Have you made any friends since coming here? Or picked up any hobbies? Distracting yourself from the change is a good way to adjust. It just sort of slides into being normal.”

Fate averted her eyes downward, staring into the depths of her cup as if seeking an answer there. “There... was one girl, yes,” she said quietly. “We were... well, there was something there. She liked me, certainly, even if we didn’t get much time to talk. But...” Had Mother been right? Had she hurt her cause by fighting the girl? She had helped her after the quake, yes, but was that enough to outweigh attacking her in the first place? She bit her lip, and jumped again when a hand rested on her shoulder. Glancing up, Miyuki was giving her a calm, soothing look.

“But what? A falling out?” Fate hesitated briefly before nodding. It was as good an explanation as any. The older girl regarded her for a few moments more, then tilted her head to one side with an evaluating look.

“I was talking to a friend of mine - this morning, actually - with a similar problem - she’d had an argument with a friend, and had realised she might have been wrong. I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. _Talk_ to this girl. You might be angry with each other, you might not. You might fix things up, or it might fail horribly. But nothing is going to change from the way things are _now_ unless one of you steps forward and explains yourself, and listens to the other person’s point of view. And, preferably, is prepared to admit that they might have been wrong. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, but you’d be amazed how little your friends will blame you for it if you admit that you might have done something stupid.”

Absorbing this, Fate took an experimental bite of the cake. Miyuki was watching closely for her reaction, and wasn’t at all disappointed. The nine-year old stiffened as the chocolate explosion hit her taste buds, and a tiny moan sounded from her throat as her eyes drifted shut. When she recovered from the chocolate sensory bliss enough to open them again, Miyuki was grinning at her knowingly.

“Told you so. First time?” It was a statement more than a question, but Fate nodded anyway and Miyuki chuckled. “On the house, then. Nuh!” she cut off the start of Fate’s protest, “I insist. Besides, the way you looked when it hit you, I’d half think you never tasted chocolate before.”

Fate blinked for a few seconds, thrown by the unexpected generosity. Scrambling to make up for it another way, she hit on an elegant solution that repaid the kindness and got her a perfect present for her mother in one stroke.

“Could... could I buy a whole one?”

Miyuki stared at her for a moment, and then burst out laughing. “Whoa now, slow down a little! I know you liked it, but...”

“Ah-” Fate blushed again as she realised how that had sounded. She seemed to be doing that a lot in this conversation. “N-no, no! I meant... for my mother, as a present, I’m going back to visit her this evening, and...” her eyes darkened a little, “... she’s... ill. And I’m worried, because she looks so _thin_ and... and... I wanted to get her a present to...” she tailed off and swallowed hard, uncertain of why she was telling the girl so much. She was just... easy to talk to. And looking at Fate in raw, naked sympathy. Scooting round the table again, she sat down beside Fate and pulled her into a soothing hug.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured, patting Fate gently on the back. “I know what it feels like when one of your parents is hurt and it feels like you can’t do anything about it.” Fate couldn’t see her face, but she could hear the bitter smile in Miyuki’s voice. “It sucks, huh? Shh... it’s okay.” She gave her one last comforting squeeze before pulling away, and Fate was surprised at how much she immediately missed the reassuring contact. She felt a little better, too. The problem was still there, but somehow, sharing it had lessened the weight of it a little. She gave Miyuki a slightly watery smile of thanks, which the older girl returned.

A sudden sharp set of beeps from Miyuki’s wrist interrupted the moment, and she looked at her watch and frowned. “Damn,” she muttered, before raising her voice to address Fate again, “sorry... it looks like my break is over. But I’ll tell you what, you stay cuddled up here for as long as you want, and I’ll chat and keep your hot chocolate refilled as I go round, okay? And I’ll see about getting your mum’s cake wrapped. Sound good?”

Fate didn’t entirely trust her voice not to crack with gratitude if she answered verbally. With slightly damp eyes and a smile almost wide enough to crack her face in two, she nodded in thanks. Her problems would undoubtedly return later on, but... for here and now, just for a little while, they retreated enough for her to pretend that everything would be alright.

...

Deep in the Dimensional Sea, threading through deep, impossibly complex veils of shifting purple and black, a gleaming ship navigated the still-turbulent space between worlds. Gleaming to a casual observer, at least. A second glance from keener eyes would have revealed, to any onlooker in a position to make such an observation, the roughed-up state of certain parts of the ship indicating some considerable discomfort in the recent past. While running repairs had been made, and the ship remained fully functional, the tumultuous storm that had exploded from nowhere had not been kind to it.

Up on the bridge, sitting in pride of place at the captain’s position, Lindy Harlaown steepled her fingers and sighed. The situation was... worrying. Deeply so. A magnitude 6 dimensional quake in a backwater like this... it could only be Lost Logia activity. And more alarming still was the way that it had cut off so suddenly. Her crew - a small crew, as this was supposed to be a backwater patrol, and thus not in need of any real manpower - had rejoiced when the shaking and turbulence had stopped. She knew better. Such a sudden halt couldn’t be natural, and only powerful magic could halt a dimensional quake like that once it was started. Which meant that not only were they heading into a situation with a powerful, unknown Lost Logia, there was also at least one powerful mage involved. And since this wasn’t an Administrated area and no messages had been sent out following the quake, it probably wasn’t a TSAB-aligned mage, either.

In short, Lindy had good reason to be worried. Pursing her lips, she stared out into the mad vortex outside the ship, watching the threads of strange, eye-watering colour shift and dance as the _Asura_ powered its way towards the source of the disturbance.

“I don’t like this feeling,” she murmured to herself. “This is something big, I can tell.”

“Should I call for backup, captain?”

Lindy glanced round in mild surprise. She had been muttering to herself, not expecting anyone else to overhear her- ah, it was Amy. The young officer cadet was looking at her inquisitively, awaiting a response. Lindy started to shake her head with a smile, dismissing her comment, but then paused to consider. They _were_ understaffed. Chrono was the only mage onboard that she was happy about sending into an unknown and potentially hostile situation. While they had other mages, they were mostly personnel, rather than actual operation teams. Reinforcements would be more than welcome if there were any in the area and this situation turned out to be as serious as she suspected it was.

Nodding decisively, she gave Amy the okay. “Thank you, officer Limietta. That would be wonderful. Hmm... yes, check to see if there are any squads on downtime or training in the nearby area. If they aren’t doing any active missions, we might be able to bring them in.” With a nod, Amy began work, fingers flying over the keys like lightning. Lindy turned back to the screen, considering. Reinforcements were one thing, but she still didn’t like moving in without any information. Perhaps some discreet observation was in order before any direct intervention... there was something bugging her, as well. A nagging sense of familiarity with the area designation that she couldn’t quite place. Perhaps...

“Oh, hold on!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. “UA-97? That's the place that does those wonderful sweets, isn't it? I remember... yes, sitting wrapped up warm under that red sun on a terrace during winter, back when I was just a lieutenant on temporary shore leave.” She smiled at the memory, pleased to have placed the sense of déjà-vu. Her reverie was rudely interrupted by Amy’s reply.

“Uh... no, Ma’am. UA-97 is a Type-1 World. I think you're thinking of UA-79.”

“... oh.” Lindy frowned, put out. “Drat.” Oh well. She’d remember eventually. It was probably just a report of something or other nearby that had stuck in her mind.

“Captain? I’ve found three groups in this sector... two are quite far away, but the last one is perfect.”

“Hmm?” She returned her attention to Amy, the officer cadet straightening unconsciously as she delivered her results.

“They’re on Pihroea - a Type-3 world. Four mages - a second lieutenant and three officer cadets, all C-rank... no, wait, one B-rank. All reasonably talented in combat, for their ranks.”

Lindy pondered it for a moment. “Who are they with?”

“Uh... ah, Cranagan Capital Air Force. It looks like the second lieutenant is assessing the cadets as a leadership and personal development exercise - a test of competence for him, and a test of capability for them. Nothing major... Pihroea doesn’t look to be much more than a training facility, to be honest. They should be free to help us, if we need them. Shall I file a request for them to be reassigned to us temporarily?”

“... not yet. We don’t know what we’re dealing with, it could just be a fluke. We’ll wait until we’ve done some passive observation before acting. But call them, if you would. I’d like to give them a little advance warning.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The communications window opened, and the call was answered within a few seconds - impressively fast, noted Lindy. The worried look on the young man on the other side cleared that up a little, though, as did his first words once introductions had been exchanged.

“We’ve been on alert since yesterday - we got pinged by the dimensional quake. Is there trouble in the area, ma’am?” He was respectful - as most junior lieutenants were when faced with an admiral - but the knot of concern in his frown spoke of a strong desire to know what was going on and why.

He was perceptive, then. That was good, she could use that. “Not exactly,” she answered. “The situation is still largely an unknown. We were caught by the quake, same as you, and buffeted about rather violently. We’re currently en route to investigate the occurrence, as it was centred on an Unadministered World, but this wasn’t supposed to be a high-risk patrol, so we’re short on manpower trained for insertion.”

“I see... and we’re the closest support squad in the region?” he guessed. She nodded in confirmation, silently applauding his guess. He swallowed, a reddish-brown hair falling askew. He looked fairly young - seventeen, maybe eighteen. Certainly, not much more than three or four years experience, and probably no real command experience in that time. And here she was, implicitly asking him to put his team into a potentially deadly hostile situation.

Nevertheless, he rose to the occasion admirably, saluting sharply after only a short pause. “Ma’am,” he acknowledged, “we will remain on standby until called to help, or told to stand down.”

“Thank you,” Lindy replied gratefully. “We intend to do some passive surveillance of the state of affairs before moving in, so you’ll have at least a day or so even if it turns out we do need you. And it could just be a fluke.” He nodded in understanding, and she smiled gratefully. A four-man team of officer cadets wasn’t perfect, but any support was better than none, and having reinforcements close at hand took at least a small weight off her shoulders.

“... ah,” she murmured to herself suddenly, as the connection blinked off. “Ah, yes. I remember. UA-97... that’s Graham’s native home, isn’t it?” Her frown deepened. Graham was an extraordinary mage, a rare fluke from a world that was otherwise almost devoid of magic. If another such mage had arisen - the reason the quake had cut off so suddenly, perhaps? That suggested a certain amount of power... and more worryingly, a certain level of skill in using it. And not a low level, either.

A rogue mage from a backwater planet, then, in all likelihood. One without ties to the TSAB, who had learnt or figured out enough magic to stop a dimensional quake, and who may well have been the one to set it off in the first place. And if they turned out to be hostile...

... well, that could cause things to become _complicated_.

...

“Fate-chan!”

The joyful exclamation gave Fate about three seconds of warning, which was just enough to brace herself. Then Linith descended like a motherly avalanche and buried her blonde charge in an exuberant and engulfing hug. “How are you?” she asked earnestly, “Are you doing alright out in the city? I know it can be scary to be out on your own... oh, Arf! Welcome back! What’s that you’re carrying?”

“Hello Linith,” Fate greeted the woman who had raised her. Her voice was somewhat muffled, pressed into Linith’s chest as it was by the tight hug, but her arms came around Linith’s waist to hug back, and she was smiling as the cat-familiar released her. “It’s good to see you, too. And be back on the Garden.” She looked around, taking in the familiar looping, swirling lines of the architecture - so different to UA-97, where everything was straight lines and right angles. Linith’s plants and homely touches dotted the hallway here and there, barring a few alcoves she hadn’t got around to redecorating yet. There, carvings and embossed writing marked the strange ceramic-metal walls, angular lines of cuneiform dotted around patterns that ranged from abstract chaos to depictions of people.

“I’ve been fine,” she said in answer to Linith’s enthusiastic interrogation. “And the box is a present for Mother. I wanted to get her something... nice.”

“That’s wonderful of you, Fate-chan!” Linith beamed. “I’m sure she’ll love it. Do you want to give it to her yourself, or shall I carry it for you?”

“I’ll do it.” Accepting the package from Arf, Fate followed the Linith through the maze of corridors that ran through the Garden of Time, the sandy-haired familiar navigating with the ease of long practice as she chattered about this and that, asking the occasional question of her young charge. Fate let the flow of words wash over her, answering mostly on autopilot as she let her gaze wander. Ancient, rusted machinery lay abandoned in the cavernous spaces that oddly sized doors and windows afforded glimpses into. Some of the openings were mere slits, as high as a man but barely wide enough to fit an arm through. Others were jagged, slanted things - clearly crafted, but with acute tilts or zigzagging frames.

Universal to the odd openings, though, was the state of what they revealed. The mechanisms and devices beyond them lay dormant, thick layers of dust covering the strange shapes and fey sculptures and carvings decorating the walls. Some walls were covered in etched cuneiform writing, of some tongue so old as to be lost to the mists of history. Others hinted at detailed diagrams under the dust, with shapes matching the arcane devices they were set next to. Peering into the rooms and halls as Linith led her to Precia’s throne room, Fate entertained herself with daydreams of what they must have been like in ages past, when the hum of functional machines filled the bowels of the Garden and the glow of magic pervaded every room.

Eventually, though, they reached their destination. The great golden doors loomed over her just as much as they had on that fateful day four years ago, when she had first come here and been told of her quest. Now, at last, they were seeing progress towards their goal. She cradled Bardiche, and the bounty it held within itself. Six Jewel Seeds. Half a dozen of the Lost Logia her sister needed. The Takamachi girl was determined, but she couldn’t be everywhere, and Fate not only had more time to hunt them, she was also able to search and travel a much wider portion of the local area than the native girl.

Shivering a little, more out of habit than any real reaction to the faint chill in the air, she presented herself to her mother and waited, eyes cast downward. The woman was busy tapping away at a keyboard with a faint frown, and Fate knew from long experience to wait until she was addressed to speak - any interruptions to Precia’s work would be met with, at best, a cold silence or a glare. She didn’t have to wait long, though. After only half a minute or so, the violet-haired woman sighed wearily, terminating her session with a few decisive keystrokes and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Fate,” she said tiredly, the usual lilt absent from her voice. She sounded exhausted, and Fate noticed, peeking through her bangs, that the bags under her mother’s eyes seemed rather deeper than normal. Her lips tightened, but she refrained from commenting on it as Precia spoke again, gesturing idly towards the box she carried. “What is that?”

Throwing an uncertain glance at Linith, who gave her an encouraging smile and nod, Fate lifted the box slightly, offering it forward hesitantly. “It’s... um... a present, mother. I picked it up for you while I was looking into Takamachi-san’s background.”

Precia raised an eyebrow languidly and twitched her fingers, summoning the box to float out of Fate’s hands and across the room to her. Fate couldn’t help but quietly marvel at the effortless, unconscious ease with which the magic was cast - as casually and easily as moving an arm or blinking. Cracking the lid open, Precia peered inside and made a small noise of acknowledgement as she saw the cake, nodding slowly.

“Thank you, Fate. Do you have anything else for me?” A hint of energy returned as she looked at the girl expectantly, and Fate hurriedly brought out Bardiche, prompting it to release the Jewel Seeds from storage. “Yes, mother! The Lost Logia - six of them.” The blue gems rose up from Bardiche’s storage form with a yellow pulse of magic, drifting in a lazy orbit above it. A thin smile edged its way onto Precia’s face as she took the sight in, and she nodded more firmly. “Good. Well done.”

Gaze drifting to the Device in Fate’s hand, Precia’s neutral expression shifted into a slight frown of annoyance. “I see you’ve managed to damage your Device,” she sighed. “The dimensional quake, I presume?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “Leave it with me. Linith can fix it once I’ve transferred the data off it for analysis.”

“... yes mother.” The yellow triangle of metal clinked quietly as Fate reluctantly set it down where Precia had gestured, and a faint pulse of light indicated the uplink connecting and the information starting to be transferred.

“Um... mother?” she asked, tentatively, “May I make a request?”

“Hmm? What now?” A tinge of annoyance threaded into the older woman’s voice, and Fate shifted nervously, chewing on her lip.

“Um... may I visit Alicia?”

Sharp, cold eyes cut across to her, narrowed with some emotion she couldn’t quite place. Fate squirmed under the penetrating gaze that pinned her unwaveringly in place. After a short, silent moment that seemed to drag on forever, the weight behind the stare lessened and the imposing presence diminished, leaving Precia normal once more.

“... very well,” she acquiesced. “Linith, go with her.” Another wave of a hand drew back a curtain at the back of the wide, high-ceilinged room and the door behind it slid open soundlessly. Dismissing them, the pale woman turned back to her work, already ignoring them in favour of the glowing screens that reappeared in the air around her. Symbols flashed across the glowing surfaces, arcane algorithms and detailed analysis of the data.

The chamber was chilled, and Fate’s breath was just barely visible in the cold air. She hugged herself, shivering slightly as she walked to the centre of the room and the great glass tank that sat there. And within it...

Blonde hair. Pale skin. Eyes that were, behind closed lids, as red as Fate’s own. A slight, small frame - so _tiny_ , so _fragile_. Vulnerable and defenceless, she floated in the translucent green liquid, her hair fanning out around her in a curtain of yellow locks. She looked peaceful - tranquil, as if she were only sleeping. No older than when Fate had first seen her, four years ago. Resting a hand gently on the cold glass as the other clenched into a tight fist, she spoke quietly, her voice filled with choked conviction.

“I promise, Alicia. I will save you. No matter what the cost. You deserve a chance at life.” The vow she had made so long ago echoed through her bones, and she renewed it silently and with grim determination. She _would_ see her little sister restored. She _would_ see her mother smile, and laugh, and love again. She would see her family restored, and nothing would be allowed to stand in the path of that goal. Nothing.

And even more silently, at the back of her mind, she added an amendment to the vow. Yes, if the choice came down to one where there was no other way to save her sister, she would do anything to make her mother’s dreams come true.

But if there _were_ a way to bring things to a close peacefully - to convince Takamachi-san not to oppose them, not to fight her... she would take it. And Fate would put as much effort as she could spare into finding such a way.

... if it was possible. She slumped slightly, and felt Linith move up behind her. Resting a hand on Fate’s shoulder, the motherly woman pulled her into a hug, arms encircling her from behind. “Don’t worry,” she soothed, guessing the cause Fate’s anxiety with ease gained from years spent raising her. “It’ll be fine. You’re a brave, brilliant, beautiful little girl, and you’re making me and your mother _so_ proud, I promise.”

“I’m worried about her,” confided Fate. “She looks so... so _thin_ all the time. And pale. And... and sick.” Her voice wobbled and tears stung her eyes. Mother shouldn’t be ill. She shouldn’t be cold and tired and snappish because of the pain. She was meant to be kind and warm and comforting, and healthy and happy, and... and...

“Linith... tell me it’s going to be alright,” she sniffed, trying to blink back the tears. Her lips trembled, and she took a deep breath and held it, concentrating on Alicia and pretending that she was just asleep, that she would wake up soon, that everything would be better. “Tell me that Mother will get better, and that we’ll succeed, and that everything will be like it should again. Please?”

The arms tightened around her, pulling her back into Linith’s warm body. “It will,” whispered Linith, almost fiercely. Her voice was strong, reassuring and certain. “I promise, Fate-chan. It will. You’ll succeed - you’re already succeeding, and you’ll make everything better. I _promise_.”

Her confidence, her conviction and iron-clad faith in her charge, were like a soothing balm to Fate’s fears. Linith believed in her. Mother trusted her. Alicia was dependant on her. Her hands still trembled, but less so, the shaking residing as her breathing steadied and she took Linith’s assurances to heart.

But somewhere deep at the back of her mind, a tiny voice still coiled around her doubts, and whispered “liar”.

...

Nanoha loved her sister. She really did. And she was grateful, in the extreme, for the lessons she was receiving. She could already see the improvement in her fighting skills with Raising Heart that had come from the practice, and it was _wonderful_ , feeling so much more competent, so much more assured in her ability to hold her own.

And she wasn’t unwilling to put the work in, either. The katas Miyuki had left her practicing were simple, but demanding. She was currently on her ninth repeat of the fourth - one more, and she could start on the ten repetitions of the fifth, before taking a break. Her limbs were aching slightly, and her breathing was ragged, but both of those were things she could ignore. No, the tiredness and exhaustion weren’t the problem...

... it was just that she was _bored_. Repeating the same set of actions over and over again was difficult for her body, yes, but it gave her nothing at all to _think_ about! And she couldn’t just let her mind wander, as she’d learnt the hard way that doing so led to her messing up and getting it wrong.

Sighing, she lined her limbs up right and started on the tenth set. There was no use in bemoaning it, she just had to tolerate the dreariness and focus on doing the work. It was annoying, but she knew of old that the only way to get better at something was to practice, practice, practice.

If only all those hours of practice could be more _interesting_...

_‘Um. Nanoha?’_

She stopped, blinking in surprise. _‘Yuuno-kun? Ah! Have you found somewhere I can pick you up from?’_

_‘... well, yes and no.’_

Frowning, Nanoha leaned the staff against the wall, carefully. She had a feeling this was going to preclude any further practice.

 _‘Yes and no?’_ she asked curiously.

 _‘Well, I was trying to find a place in the city that I recognised, so that I could call you to come and pick me up,’_ explained Yuuno. His voice had an interesting tint of embarrassment in it, and a glimmer of a smile played about Nanoha’s lips as she listened. She wasn’t sure what had happened yet, but it promised to be amusing in the recounting.

_‘So I searched around for a few hours, but... I can’t move very fast, and I think we went quite a long way across the city during the fight. And I wasn’t sure which way I was meant to be going in. But then I saw a bus, and I recognised the number! It was one of the ones that go past your house, through that stop two streets away. So I snuck onboard, so that you wouldn’t have to come as far to pick me up.’_

Nanoha frowned. _‘But... if it was in the downtown city... the route isn’t two-way. Wouldn’t that be going **away** from the house, not towards it?’_

A brief silence followed, as Yuuno somehow managed to communicate extreme embarrassment over a telepathic link without actually saying anything. _‘Um...’_ he finally managed, in a sheepish tone of voice, _‘well... yes. In a word. And I... uh... didn’t realise that for a while. So...’_

_‘So?’_

_‘... I have no idea where I am,’_ he admitted. _‘Can you try and work out where I am if I give you street names?’_

 _‘...’_ Despite her best efforts to stifle it, a giggle escaped. The image of Yuuno hopping blithely onto a bus and only realising several stops later that he was going in the wrong direction... Nanoha had to bite her lip to stop herself from snickering at his expense. _‘Okay,’_ she sent, trying and failing to keep the amusement from her tone. _‘Wait there a moment. I’ll get a map.’_

A mental impression of a pout came over the link as she hurried, giggling, into the house. _‘It’s not my fault,’_ Yuuno complained. _‘Your buses are too complicated, that’s all. I got the number right, didn’t I?’_ He sounded mildly indignant, or possibly just sulky, and Nanoha giggled again.

 _‘Alright’_ she said after a few moments of searching. Standing on tiptoe to reach the top shelf, she pulled down a city map and spread it out across the floor, walking her fingers over the small printed kanji to find her street. _‘I’ve got the map open. Where are you?’_

_‘Um... I’m near a Shinto shrine... Haedo Shrine, I think it says.’_

_‘Ah! That’ll be easier to look for, yes.’_ Humming distractedly, Nanoha scanned the map for Haedo, searching for the little symbols representing shrines. One, two, three, four, five... on the sixth one she struck gold, tapping the paper happily with a little nod of satisfaction.

And then stared. _‘Yuuno-kun,’_ she asked in bewilderment. _‘How on Earth did you get all the way out there? That’s ages away!’_

_‘Oh. Um. Well, you don’t have to... that is, if it’s too far for you to come...’_

_‘Yuuno-kun!’_ Nanoha exclaimed crossly. _‘Don’t be silly! Of course I’ll come get you! I’m just not sure how you got so far, and... oh.’_

_‘Is something wrong?’_

_‘No, no... you’re just not that far from Suzuka-chan’s house. I wonder...’_ Blinking, she reminded herself that she was letting Suzuka and Arisa have their strop, and shook her head. _‘No, never mind. I’ll be there as soon as I can, Yuuno-kun. Don’t go anywhere.’_

Yuuno, curled up next to a fence behind the bus stop, lowered his head onto his paws. ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he thought to himself sulkily. ‘It’s not as if I was _planning_ on it.’ He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards as much as they could and his shoulders slumping. ‘I wish my clan were around. And it’s probably going to start raining again soon.’

It took Nanoha almost an hour to get to him. By the time she stepped off the bus, hair slightly mussed from the wind that was picking up, Yuuno had left boredom behind and was making ground on soul-crushing ennui. Spotting her, he squeaked loudly in relief and scampered over to her.

 _‘Nanoha! It feels like ages since I saw you last.’_ Flowing up her leg and onto her shoulder, he nuzzled her cheek affectionately in greeting. _‘How are you feeling? The quake must have hit you pretty hard.’_

Stroking his sleek-furred head, Nanoha set off towards the next bus stop. _‘I’m okay’_ she reassured him. _‘I... fell asleep for a while, after the quake. I was exhausted, and feeling sick, and... I felt better when I woke up. I’m sorry I couldn’t find you, but... it was a lot of area to cover, and it was getting dark, and my parents were getting worried, so...’_

 _‘No, no. It’s okay, I understand. And there was no real harm done, just a long day.’_ Yuuno licked Nanoha’s cheek again to show that he meant it.

She smiled happily at him, _‘Anyway, Miyuki has been teaching me more staff fighting, and...’_

She trailed off, coming to a halt and staring at something on the other side of the road. Curious as to what had attracted her attention, Yuuno craned round her head to look. The wide path leading up to an expensive mansion looked familiar...

“Mraa!”

All the hairs along Yuuno’s back stood up at the sound, and he emitted something that, had it been vocal, would have been called a mild shriek of terror.

“Mraa!” came the sound again, from the ground. Nanoha looked down and smiled in fond recognition. “Hello,” she greeted the little grey kitten. “Vesta, wasn’t it?” She leant down to pet the tiny creature, which had sprung out of a clump of weeds to savagely gnaw on one of her shoes. Yuuno moaned as her motion drew him closer to the feline menace that had almost eaten him, and he scampered up onto her head - just in time, for Vesta looked up as the girl’s fingers brushed her head and playfully reared up, trying to climb up her arm towards Yuuno.

“Hee! Stop that,” admonished Nanoha, amused, and pushed Vesta down again. With a grumbling purr, she went back to savaging the shoe buckle as Nanoha tickled the back of her neck. It didn’t take long for the attention to drain the hunting instincts from her, and in relatively short order she was draped over Nanoha’s foot, purring steadily as her belly was tickled and her head stroked. “I do hope you haven't had any unfortunate growing incidents again,” the girl added playfully, as she gave her the attention she demanded, wagging a finger at the kitten. “Poor Suzuka-chan wouldn’t be able to afford to feed you. And I don’t think they do tins of cat food that big.”

“Mraa,” was the response she got, as the kitten stared at the finger, possibly wondering if it signified food. Nanoha sighed in mock exasperation, and another reproachful mewl coaxed her into resuming the stroking. Hands occupied with the kitten, her attention wandered. Gaze again straying across the road; she stared up the path at the mansion. Suzuka would probably be there. Possibly Arisa as well, if she didn’t have any classes at this time of day. It would be easy to go in, say hello, apologise and explain everything... but should she? Arisa had been... well, it had been justified, sort of, but she’d still been _mean_. And hadn’t _trusted_ Nanoha, even when she’d said she was sorry she couldn’t talk about it, that she had no choice.

Nanoha thought back to what Miyuki had said, about one of them needing to make the first move and admit that they might have been wrong. She had been asking about Fate, but... might it apply here? To Arisa and Suzuka, as well? Maybe she should...

_‘No.’_

_‘Yuuno-kun?’_

_‘You were broadcasting,’_ he explained, _‘Nanoha, keeping them in the dark is the adult decision to make. The mature one. It’s uncomfortable, but there’s no gain and a lot of risk in letting them know. This isn’t a situation where both sides have valid points - they don’t have all the information, they don’t know that your decision is based on such a solid foundation. I know it’s upsetting to have them be angry at you, but... you’re doing the right thing. I’m sorry.’_

 _‘...’_ Nanoha let out a sigh. This was _hard_. Hard and unfair and complicated. And the sort of thing she wanted her mother, or her sister, for. They knew about things like this, they could tell her what to do.

But they couldn’t tell her properly without knowing everything. And telling people everything was what she wasn’t sure about. So she couldn’t get help from that quarter. It was just her. So... what did she _feel_ was right?

 _‘... yes,’_ she agreed, wearily. _‘Yes, I suppose.’_ She suddenly felt very tired, and the kitten must have picked up on her change in mood, for with a final “mraa!”, she wriggled free of Nanoha’s attentions and went streaking across the road, back into the grounds of her home.

 _‘Come on, Yuuno,’_ sighed Nanoha, watching her go. She rose to her feet and cast one last look back at the mansion. The decision felt final. Adult. She had decided on her course, and it was the right one. When she _could_ tell her friends, she would. And until then...

 _‘Let’s go,’_ she said, turning her back on the house.

Until then, she would cope. One way or another.

...

The sky was a clear blue and the sun shone down on the chill morning as noon drew closer. People walked briskly through the streets of Uminari City, hurrying here and there in the throes of everyday life. Somewhere in it, a brown-haired girl sat in her bedroom, watching solemnly as the crimson gemstone on her desk pulsed, each faint glow signifying a microscopic change in the hair-thin cracks that still ran across its surface. They were becoming thinner still, and some were disappearing, but it wasn’t whole again quite yet.

Elsewhere, nearer the city centre, more active magic was taking place. The top of the tall building was deserted, as it usually way. Fortunate indeed, for anyone who had been present would have no doubt been surprised to see the yellow glow that built on the asphalt surface, scrolling out in lines of runes to form a wide circle. Light blossomed, electric power crackling in jagged arcs from symbol to symbol, and with a bright flash and a crack, two figures stood where none had stood before.

“I’m going to scout,” said the smaller of the two, drawing a surprised look from the other.

“Scout?” asked Arf. “But we only just got back! Don’t you want to have something to eat first, or maybe-”

“No.” Fate’s voice was soft, but firm. “Mother needs the Jewel Seeds. I can’t afford to waste any more time.” She glanced at Arf apologetically. “I’m sorry to make you work so hard...”

“No, no!” Arf hurriedly backpedalled. “I’m fine with working! I just thought you might want to rest! If you want to scout now, that’s fine!”

Smiling at her loyal familiar, Fate gave her a quick hug of thanks. “Alright then. You patrol over towards the outskirts - one of the blocks we haven’t done yet. I’ll go this way. Call me if you find anything.”

“Aye aye, master!” confirmed the wolf-woman cheerfully, throwing a mock salute as Fate lifted off. She grinned at Arf’s antics, a fond smile of affection that lingered for some time after the orange-haired woman was out of sight.

The sun was lower in the sky when the spike went up. It took her by surprise. With a Jewel Seed activation only yesterday, she had expected there to be some time until the next one. Stupid of her... they were random, and just because they’d been sporadic so far didn’t mean they always would be. Turning in the air, she sent Arf a mental nudge, checking that she’d sensed it and was already en route. She didn’t stop, though, or move to rendezvous with Arf before proceeding. She wanted to get a clear look at their opponent as soon as possible.

Besides, she thought as she flew. This one didn’t feel like the others - and not just in that it was stronger. It felt...

... hungry.

Fate got there first, though not by long. Pulling to a halt in the air above the park, she stared in alarm at the scene below. For a moment, she almost thought that there was a barrier up, but... no. No, this was the work of the Jewel Seed itself. Her familiar joined her, the orange wolf stalking onto the scene and growling softly at the sight.

Trees shrivelled. Grass withered. Lake water grew dead, dull and still. Colour was leeched out of the soil to leave only chalky grey. And with every ravenous pull at the world, the mass at the epicentre of the effect grew further. It must have been some sort of weed or vine before the Seed - now, it was enormous, a great, tangled ball of vines each easily as thick as a man’s torso and decorated with cruel barbs and thorns. Pale and drained like the rest of the park around them, the only spots of colour to them were the strange growths bloomed along their length; cancerous lumps that pulsed with the mad light of the Dimensional Sea. Shifting and wriggling, the coiled-together mass looked like nothing so much as a writhing egg of bloated, tumorous tentacles.

“Arf!” she snapped in alarm, “Barrier! Now!”

The monochrome tones of the barrier rolled out and the thing below hissed, an eerie rattle going up as its vine-limbs trembled. Warily, Fate gained a few feet of altitude, waiting for whatever...

It exploded. Or seemed to, at least. Thorny tendrils shot out in all directions, ripping and tearing at the earth hungrily in search of the sustenance that had been denied to them. It spread _fast_ , lashing its way across the ground in all directions, seeking the edges of the barrier.

Well. Time to put a stop to _that_ , for certain. Giving Bardiche a preparatory twirl, she snapped it out into its scythe form and slashed towards the nearest branching spread of vines. Smoothly leaving the Device, the glowing blade whirled towards its defenceless target with uncanny accuracy. Once it had cut those vines into chunks, she would be able to move in and-

Fate’s plans to follow up her initial strike were rudely interrupted as the spinning blade shattered on... a shield? Her eyes widened. How on _earth_ was it generating a- she hissed and cut off the question, throwing herself sideways to avoid the retaliatory strike of spear-like vines that punched up into the air through the point she had just occupied.

Well...fine. A quick glance at Arf and a second or two of non-verbal communication conveyed what her idea, and Arf gave her a nod to show that she was ready. Shifting her grip on Bardiche, Fate tensed low in preparation for the effort she was about to expend. She would need all of her speed for this. Crouching low and exploding from her starting position like an Olympic sprinter leaving the starting gates, she blurred towards the centre of the vine, preparing the spell she needed en route with Bardiche as she handled the calculations for her speed entirely on her own.

Of course, the vines retaliated. As she had expected them to, they closed in like the many jaws of a cavernous maw, lined with thorny teeth. At range, they were spread out enough for her to dodge them with relative, but close in there were just too many attacks and not enough space for her to dodge into to succeed in that.

So she didn’t try.

Glowing orange bands encircled the vines around her, manacles that locked them in position and forced them apart, clearing a hole for her. A barrier snapped up on her left to deflect a tendril from further round, and she ignored it - her focus was on the dash, and the spell she held in readiness. Trust Arf to see to her safety, it was what the familiar was trained for, made for. Her job was to get as close as possible to the writhing, bloated core of the central mass of vines, and unleash...

[Thunder Smasher.]

The spell was weak. Barely half as powerful as normal due to the sheer speed with which she got it off, trading preparation time for power. The aim was slightly off as well; a result of her trying to handle too many things at once and making an error somewhere. Nevertheless, a point-blank bombardment-type spell from an AA-class mage, even hurried and at low power, was never something to be sneezed at. The shield that snapped up just as the blast fired deflected the worst of it, but enough of the force still squeezed through to take a huge chunk out of the side of the egg-shaped core, the smell of ozone and burnt plant matter filling the air to the tune of an agonised screech.

Fate darted out of the wounded mass as the vines that had been seeking the edges of the barrier withdrew at speed, snapping back to guard their centre. They moved with eerie delicacy through the air, great slab-like limbs and finger-thin tendrils alike. Hovering around the mass, they _tasted_ the air, seeking any movement or threat that might come towards the main body. Hovering above, Fate regarded her opponent with a mixture of annoyance and consideration. The same trick would not work again.

“Wh- what is it?” came a voice from behind her, and she turned, Bardiche at the ready. It was Takamachi. She looked... scared? Worried, at least. Had she seen Fate’s last attack?

“It can shield itself,” Fate informed her by way of reply. “I think it’s those glowing lumps generating the shields. And it’s stronger than the other ones.”

“Mmm,” the brunette nodded in confirmation. “Yuuno-kun told me that, too. He said that they’ve been gathering up magic from their surroundings all the time since they landed, so the longer it takes for them to activate, the stronger they’ll be when they do.”

Fate squirreled this information away as useful. “That’s not good,” she commented dryly, observing the other girl out of the corner of her eye. She was pale, nervous... shy?

“Um... I know we normally fight. But... given what happened yesterday...”

Fate nodded in understanding. “We can’t risk that again.”

A smile. The girl looked relieved. Happy, almost, though that was sapped slightly by the eldritch thing below them. “Okay then,” she said. “Truce, then? We were doing well yesterday, I thought. Until... um...”

“Yeah,” Fate agreed. She understood what Takamachi was trying to say. “Arf,” she called, making sure her familiar was listening. “We cooperate on this one. It’s too powerful to waste half our energy on fighting each other.” The orange haired woman nodded tersely, eyes still on the ball of vines probing the air below.

“Yuuno-kun, you too!” Takamachi told the ferret on her shoulder, to which it nodded. “Okay,” she confirmed, turning back to Fate and Arf. “What’s the plan?”

 _‘The plan that Testarossa-san tried looks like a good one,’_ replied the ferret telepathically. _‘If her Familiar and I handle the vines, you two can seal it with bombardment. If it’s using the growths on the vines to generate the shields, it shouldn’t be able to shield as effectively if we pin them all to the ground.’_

Fate quirked an eyebrow - the mental voice sounded surprisingly young - but nodded. “Alright. Once we start charging, it’s going to sense us and attack. Keep it off our backs and get as many of the vines pinned down as you can before we fire, okay?”

Both familiars nodded, and on an unseen signal, the attack began. Both girls flew up and across, covering the Jewel Seed from opposite sides. Around them, pink and yellow light began to build as casting rings spun out in front of their respective weapons to form firing barrels. The vines reacted instantly, questing upwards with bristling thorns, but they met orange and green chains as they rose. The inexorable bindings tied them together and lashed them to the ground, winching tighter to force them down. On one section, Yuuno merely called a flat pane of green light into being and sent it crashing downward, crushing the vines beneath it against the ground and pinning them there. Though the central mass screamed and struggled, though the vines writhed and strained, the bonds and bindings held. It was trapped.

Yellow light built in front of Fate as the elements of the spell clicked into place. She had more time to cast, this time, and wasn’t nearly as hurried. The firing barrel extended, centred on the core of the mass below her, and she drew back Bardiche to fire as, across from her, Takamachi did the same.

And then it all went wrong.

A shifting of earth and a whisper through the air was her only warning, and she twisted desperately out of the way as Arf’s scream rang through the air. Pain exploded across her side, a white-hot ripping agony as if a dozen jagged knives had been drawn across her ribs. Dazed and muddled, she fell, mind putting it together slowly. The Jewel Seed... oh, of course. Roots. She had been stupid, only focusing on the threats she could see. It must have sent its roots burrowing underground to the right place, to have them burst out in a lancing attack to take out one of its threats. Which meant its next move would be...

 _‘Reinforce the bindings!’_ she screamed, desperately. Too weak and winded to speak as she fell, but telepathy was a boon that way. _‘It’s going to try to wrench free!’_

Too late. Almost. The surge of power to the bindings as Arf and the ferret renewed their attention didn’t come quickly enough to stop a number of the larger vines ripping free, trading chunks of their mass for unrestricted movement. Most of them, she realised with a bitter amusement, were around her. Cruel thorns seeking blood, they closed in.

[Flash Move, Barrier.]

And broke, on a pink barrier so bright it was nearly blinding, as warm arms closed around her and arrested her fall. For a moment, Fate was disoriented, before putting the pieces together. Takamachi... where had she learnt a speed booster like Fate’s Blitz Action?

“Fate-chan!” the girl exclaimed worriedly. “Oh no... don’t worry, I think it looks worse than it is. I hope. Um... we need to get you to safety.” She looked around, lips tightening and brow creasing with worry. Blinking her eyes open enough to take in her surroundings, Fate could see why. Unable to break the Barrier, the vines had tugged it over to the central mass as Nanoha had examined her. Now, the pair of them were engulfed within the body of the thing, with thorny vines rasping over the Barrier’s surface from every direction like the grinding maw of some hideous sea beast. If Nanoha dropped the Barrier in order to shoot in any one direction, they would be killed as the vines rushed in from every other. And if she tried to keep it up... already, the barrier’s light was beginning to dim as the Jewel Seed devoured the magic in it, as it devoured everything else to feed its unnatural rate of growth and shield-generating tumours.

... tumours, she realised, which she couldn’t see. They must only be on the outer vines.

Well then. That was helpful. It meant that what she was about to do stood a rather high chance of actually working.

“Nn-ha...” she murmured, and frowned. Still winded. She tried again. _‘Nanoha.’_

“Eh? Uh... Fate-chan?”

 _‘If you drop the Barrier to shoot it, we’ll die. Use this.’_ Mentally, she prompted Bardiche to send Nanoha’s device the form for the spell she was thinking of.

“Huh? Raising Heart...” Nanoha fell silent for a moment as her Device relayed the basics in turn to her. “Photon Barret? I’m not sure I can use this...”

 _‘It’s the one I used at the hospital. To clear out the whole corridor. You can adapt it to fit your own magic, and then fry all of the vines at once.’_ Fate squeezed the girl’s hand for support, and gently took back her own weight. The girl wouldn’t be able to fire if her hands were occupied carrying Fate. _‘Quickly,’_ she urged, _‘I’ve seen you do this before. I know you’re capable of it.’_

Judging from the faint blush and the slight frown of concentration, the prompt seemed to work. Turning her attention to Arf, she reassured her frantic familiar that she was alright. _‘It’s okay, Arf, Nanoha got a Barrier up in time. We have a plan to get out and seal the Jewel Seed in one shot, but we’re going to need you two to distract it. Can you try to rip some of the larger vines off the core mass? Give it something to preoccupy it, so that it can’t turn all its attention on us.’_

A pause. Then, _‘I understand! We’ll do what we can, but please, Fate-chan, be careful!’_

“Okay,” Nanoha breathed after a minute of tense silence. The Barrier was flickering by now, and alarmingly dull in places - almost completely transparent. The vines writhed and twined just beyond it, hungry for what they sensed inside. “I think I’ve got it. But I’m not sure...”

 _‘We’re out of time,’_ Fate shrugged, _‘It doesn’t matter if it might not work, it’s the only chance we have. The Barrier won’t hold for much more than another minute, and the familiars won’t get us out in that time.’_ Gulping, Nanoha nodded. It was all on her, then.

“Alright,” she said shakily, and gave a little nervous laugh. “Better hope this works...” Pink light began to build around her, and the vines increased their eager corrosion of the Barrier. Lips tense, Fate leant on the white-clad girl for support and breathed in, eyes closing. With her outward breath, she sent as much of her magic as she could rushing through the points of contact with the other girl, offering it freely to help reinforce the spell. There was loss, of course. Nanoha was nowhere near as closely aligned to her energy as Arf was, and even Fate’s attempts to compensate only decreased the amount wasted by a little. But the small proportion that did make it through was still enough to reduce the charging time, and time was one thing they had precious little of right now. It was worth it.

With a grateful look thrown over her shoulder, Nanoha hefted her Device in front of her and cast.

[Divine Barret.]

The Barrier fell, the vines rushed in... and burnt. A hundred blazing rays of pink light shone in every direction, curving around the forms of Fate and Nanoha. Where they touched the thorny tendrils, brighter motes within crackled and burst, scorching and purifying the Jewel Seed tainted plant matter. Multiplying as it they radiated outward, the soft violet radiance raced through the squirming mass of vines towards the light of day, bursting out from every dark shadow within as if a sun had been ignited inside it. Screaming and withering, the egg-shaped bundle lost cohesion as ray after ray struck the Jewel Seed within, battering it down and sealing it, until all that was left was a collection of rotting vines under the hovering figures, and a soft blue glow from the gem that sunk down into Raising Heart’s core.

“Well,” said Nanoha, smiling broadly as the Barrier unravelled around them. “Looks like it worked!” She turned her head to the girl leaning heavily on her shoulder. “Um... I know we’ve been a bit... at odds. But... um... if you’ll still tell me why you’re fighting for the Jewel Seeds, I’ll-”

A sudden flash of bright, blue-white light briefly outshone the quiet pulse of the Jewel Seed, casting long shadows across the landscape before it faded.

“Stop!” a voice interrupted. Male, youthful and confident. “I am a government official from the Time-Space Administration Bureau, Chrono Harlaown! You are hereby required to peacefully accompany me for questioning with regards to the recent dimensional disturbance that originated in this area!”

Nanoha stared, stunned. Fate, on the other hand, wasn’t so passive. Pushing off Nanoha, she shot towards Arf in an attempt to run.

“Halt!” barked the boy. Nanoha spotted him now. A teenager with a trimmed head of dark blue hair, he stood at the edge of where the Barrier had been, a dark overcoat covering efficient, functional clothes that allowed for free range of movement. His hands were covered by armoured gauntlets not unlike her own, there were spikes on his shoulder pads and he carried a black staff with a strange, cylindrical head capped by a disk and a metallic wing.

This last, he levelled at Fate as she ran, a scowl forming. Blue light began to gather at the staff’s head, and Nanoha realised he was going to shoot her. From what he said, it sounded like he was from some sort of authority investigating the dimensional quake... but Fate was hurt. Injured, and probably unable to dodge as well. Making her decision and holding to it, she moved.

 _‘Nanoha!’_ Yuuno cried as she flew into the line of fire. _‘Don’t-’_

[Stinger Snipe.]

A blue beam lanced towards the girl, swerving to avoid Nanoha. She was ready, though, and moved with it, blocking it with a shield and grabbing Fate in mid flight - the girl was moving slowly, compared to her usual speed, and Nanoha gritted her teeth as her suspicions that the injury was hindering the blonde were confirmed. She threw a quick, wild look at Arf, conversation passing at the speed of thought.

_‘I try can get her away from here, if you want. But he’ll follow.’_

Arf snarled reflexively at the thought of Nanoha taking her master anywhere. But... _‘I can’t beat him,’_ she admitted, _‘And you’re right, he’ll chase. I’ll hold him off, then get away myself.’_

_‘How?’_

_‘If Fate isn’t slowing me down, I can outpace him. I think. Go!’_ She turned, conversation cut off as she threw a bind and a flurry of shots at the advancing teen. Nanoha didn’t hang around to watch him block it. Throwing a beckoning look at Yuuno, who hesitated only briefly before running to join her, she took off into the sky and threw herself away from the stalemate that was developing behind her.

 _‘This is bad...’_ moaned Yuuno, _‘That’s a TSAB official! We should turn ourselves in, it’ll be better for everyone! Please, Nanoha, turn around!’_

 _‘No,’_ she replied resolutely. _‘Fate-chan ran from him. She must have had a good reason. She took care of me yesterday, after the quake. I’m not going to just turn her over to someone she’s afraid of.’_

 _‘But-’_ Yuuno protested. Nanoha silenced him with a glare, looking back down at the girl she carried with concern. The wound across her side was bleeding sluggishly, and she appeared to be unconscious. That, or so disoriented as to be unresponsive. Biting her lip, Nanoha came down to land on a high building, sneaking a quick look back across the skyline to make sure that she had lost any hint of pursuit.

“Okay...” she breathed, reassured that she hadn’t been followed. “Let me see... Raising Heart? Like yesterday, okay?”

[Alright, my master,] chimed the staff lyrically. Nanoha lowered it over the wound and concentrated. She had made sure to practice this spell last night, going over it carefully so that it would be easier to cast the next time she had cause to do so. She hadn’t expected to find such an opportunity so quickly, but... lucky she had thought to do so anyway.

[Physical Heal.]

Soft pink light shone down on the wound, and the lacerations closed a little. Yuuno watched, eyes narrowed, and seemed to struggle for a moment. Reaching a decision, he bowed his head.

_‘We’ve already run away from a TSAB officer, so... I guess this won’t hurt. Here, let me.’_

Flowing over to the girl where she rested on the roof’s surface, he studied her breathing for a moment and nodded, lifting a paw in silence. Green light bloomed, targeting the wound in the same way Nanoha’s casting of the spell had done. Unlike hers, this was considerably more effective, and the cuts and gashes closed until they were almost gone. Lowering his paw again as the light faded, Yuuno nodded.

_‘That’s all I can do. Any more magic would risk saturation. She should be okay now.’_

“Thank you, Yuuno-kun,” Nanoha murmured softly, touching his head in thanks. She knew he was uncomfortable with helping the girl - he didn’t fully trust her, and hadn’t since their first meeting. That he was willing to heal her injuries anyway was a sign of how much he trusted Nanoha’s belief in the girl.

A soft landing on the other side of the roof brought both of them to their feet. It was Arf, and thankfully there seemed no sign of the boy she had been fighting, though she looked tired. “I lost him,” she explained tersely, “but I have no doubt he’ll be back.” Her eyes slid over to Fate, noting her freshly healed wound. A hint of softness slid onto her face, and she nodded to Nanoha in thanks.

 _‘Thank you,’_ she sent, a sideways glance at Yuuno making it clear as to why she wasn’t speaking out loud. _‘I’ll take her back home. And I suggest you do the same. The TSAB are bad news.’_ She scowled, lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth as she unconsciously snarled at the thought of the organisation. _‘They’d deny Fate-chan a sister, if they had their way.’_

“Wh- what?” Nanoha stammered, but Arf merely picked up her master, cradling the black-clad girl lovingly. _‘Stay away from them,’_ she advised again, and leapt from the roof, landing easily on the next building across and bounding away in a series of huge, gravity defying leaps.

 _‘Nanoha?’_ Yuuno asked, curiosity and worry colouring his tone, _‘What did she say? Nanoha?’_

Numbly, Nanoha shook her head, gesturing for Yuuno to retake his place on her shoulder for the flight home. The wolf-woman might have been lying... but the conviction in her tone spoke of truth. And yet Yuuno had wanted to cooperate with the boy.

Who was telling the truth?

...

Slumped on her bed, Nanoha was pouting. “But he _shot_ at me!”, she complained, before realising she had slipped into speaking out loud again. Switching back to telepathy, she continued complaining. _‘You can’t tell me that he’s one of the good guys if he goes around shooting people!’_

 _‘He was reacting to the dimensional quake, Nanoha!’_ Biting down on his rising tone, Yuuno tried to speak gently. Making Nanoha angry or scared was the last thing he needed right now. _‘You saw how much damage it did. He couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t set of deliberately. Of course he was wary when he came in. And when the two of you refused to come and explain the situation, and Testarossa ran, he assumed the worst. I’m sure that a simple explanation will solve everything.’_

Nanoha wasn’t having any of it. _‘Who says he gets to order people around, anyway? I’m not allowed to! Why should he be?’_

Yuuno sighed. He could give the simple answer, that the boy’s authority came from the TSAB. But he had younger cousins, he knew that would only lead to her asking where _their_ authority came from. Attempting a calm, informative tone, he explained. _‘There are Lost Logia all over the Dimensional Sea, Nanoha, scattered across the worlds. Artefacts from ancient cultures like Alhazred and Ancient Belka. They’re not understood, and people who play around with them get hurt, and hurt other people. Sometimes whole worlds. It’s happened.’_ He looked at the girl seriously, willing her to believe him. _‘So some groups try to regulate things like that, and lock them up, and make sure nobody uses them for ill. They try to stop fighting and provide everyone with a decent standard of life, and coordinate between different worlds so that those with a surplus can help those with a deficit. And... maybe you could say that they have no right to do that, but they’re making people’s lives better. Isn’t that enough?’_

This seemed to stump his charge, who pondered it for a few seconds, lying back on her bed with a soft thump and staring at the ceiling, thinking. _‘I suppose that makes it okay for them... but he didn’t look like a policeman at all! And anyway, he was too young to be a policeman! Policeman are old! Like, twenty!’_

_‘The TSAB are spread very thin, and the things they deal with usually aren’t too dangerous, so-’_

_‘The Jewel Seeds aren’t dangerous?’_ Nanoha interrupted incredulously, sitting up and staring at him, _‘Were you **there** last night?’_

The ferret groaned. _‘This situation is hardly normal. Usually, when things are normal, TSAB officers generally just face other mages and do patrols.’_

 _‘I don’t care! He’s still too young! I don’t know about space... dimension-time-travelling confederation group things, but I know about policemen!’_ Stubbornly, she thumped the bed to emphasise her point. _‘We got taught about them in school! Policemen are responsible grown-ups who wear proper uniforms that aren’t evil and spiky and who you should talk to if you have a problem because they’re friendly and will help you!’_ She paused, running over what she had been taught to see if she had missed anything. _‘One of them came into school,’_ she added, proudly. _‘He said I was responsible.’_

 _‘If you’re responsible, shouldn’t you talk to the TSAB and give them a chance to explain?’_ asked Yuuno weakly. This conversation was not going the way he had hoped. Very little had been, recently.

_‘No! I told you, he’s not a proper policeman!’_

_‘Nanoha...’_ Yuuno closed his eyes and rubbed a paw against his head. He could feel a headache forming, which probably wasn’t going to go away for the rest of the night. _‘Look... I know about the TSAB, and I trust them. He’ll be from a ship. It’s probably in orbit now. It’ll have a captain - an adult. You can talk to them, and they’ll have a...’_ he winced _‘... proper uniform, and be friendly and helpful, and everything.’_ He hoped. _‘And we can get everything explained and sorted out, and maybe try to help Miss Testarossa. Please. For me?’_

The note of pleading that entered his voice with the last request didn’t go unnoticed, and Nanoha pouted, letting out a sigh. _‘Fine,’_ she relented. _‘I’ll talk to them tomorrow, and see what they have to say.’_

 _‘Thank you,’_ Yuuno replied, fervently. As long as the ship’s captain was reasonable - which he really, really hoped they were - they could get things cleared up and give Nanoha some proper training in magic. Maybe straighten out some of the more... aggressive attitudes she had been developing. With a TSAB ship backing them up, the rest of the Jewel Seeds could be sealed without much difficulty, the Testarossa girl could be dealt with somehow and he could get all the Lost Logia from his dig boxed up again where they couldn’t hurt any innocents. Everything would be fine.

Of course, he was starting to realise by now that nothing ever went that easily. But they would be able to deal with the problems as they arose. The presence of the TSAB ship he imagined hanging in orbit was a huge weight off his shoulders, a comforting blanket reassuring him that everything was going to be alright with the world. The professionals were here now. The competent ones, trained to deal with this sort of thing. Later than he would have liked - he had been calling for help ever since he got to this world, but... better late than never.

 _‘For now, though,’_ Nanoha announced, _‘I’m going downstairs to talk to Mama.’_ Slipping Raising Heart into its customary position around her neck, she scampered off downstairs, leaving Yuuno staring up out at the light rain that was beginning to fall, his eyes turned skywards and looking beyond the clouds above at the TSAB cruiser he imagined was floating in orbit around this little world, ready to send down help.

Reaching her destination on the ground floor, Nanoha paused outside the door. “Mama?” The older woman turned at the sound, a smile on her face for her youngest daughter. Pulling off the oven gloves, she turned the heat down on one of the saucepans bubbling away.

“Nanoha-chan,” she greeted warmly. “I thought you were doing something up in your room?”

“I was. Um... can I help?”

An eyebrow rose. “Have you washed her hands?” Momoko queried. “No? Over to the sink, then. And then you can help wash and cut the vegetables.”

“Okay!” Carefully washing her hands and beginning to wash and peel the carrots, Nanoha worked in silence for a few moments, mulling over the events of the last couple of days. Quietly, she looked at the back of the woman tending to the stove and humming softly. Her mother was everything Nanoha wanted to be - beautiful, calm, always smiling and ready to meet the world. She was, in Nanoha’s humble opinion, the strongest, kindest, prettiest and generally best mother in the whole world ever. And right now, Nanoha wanted her advice.

“Mama? I... kind of have a hard decision I’m stuck on. Can you help?”

“Oh?” Momoko turned a teasing smile on her daughter. “Would this decision have anything to do with a friend or rival?”

“... Miyuki told you,” Nanoha pouted, and her mother laughed softly. Crossing the room, she pulled Nanoha into an embrace, stroking her hair tenderly as the nine-year old rested her head against her chest.

“Your sister loves you very much,” she said, “and she was worried about you when you came to her for advice. So yes, she told me. Are you upset with her?”

Nanoha shook her head, smiling into the apron. “Nah. I didn’t ask her not to tell.” She looked up, slipping her arms around Momoko to return the hug. “But... yeah, it’s kind of related to that. I’m just not sure whether to go talk to her myself or get... someone else involved. Like an impartial person.”

Momoko hummed thoughtfully. “Well...” she mused, “it might be that it would be better with just the two of you. Certainly if you’re fairly sure of what you want to say, there might not be a need for anyone else. But if you’re worried things might go wrong, or you might start fighting again, a neutral arbiter would be a good thing to have. It all depends on what your rival is like.”

Nanoha thought about this. “But... that doesn’t help me decide at _all_ ,” she concluded, after a moment’s thought. Momoko chuckled again.

“I can’t make this decision for you, sweetheart. You have to make it yourself. The only person who can decide things for you is you.” She tousled her daughter’s hair. “But if you want to talk it over with me, properly, I'm always here for you.”

The girl nodded. “Not right now, Mama, but... thank you. I’ll remember.” They stood like that for a while longer, as the scents of cooking swirled around them and the whistle of the kettle slowly rose. Mother and daughter, comforting and being comforted.

Their embrace was broken by the sound of the front doorbell as the kettle began to boil. Momoko sighed, disengaging from the hug. “Oh... drat,” she muttered, glancing at the stove. “Nanoha, I need to get this under control... could you answer that for me?” Nodding, Nanoha retreated from the kitchen, going to see who it was. The rain was really pounding down outside, she realised - over the various sounds of the kitchen, she had missed it turning from a light shower to a downpour.

She opened the door, and met red eyes. A black, lacy dress was drenched and clinging to the girl’s sodden form and her hair was hanging down in sodden streamers. She looked primarily like a drowned rat, but underneath that was the calm control Nanoha had come to recognise. And underneath _that_...

... was that panic? Thinly restrained and well-hidden, but mild, low-level panic nonetheless. The girl was shaking, too - possibly out of nervousness, but probably out of cold. “F-” stuttered Nanoha, dimly aware that she should be offering the girl a coat, or a hot drink, or to come inside, or... something. Her brain, however, was still stuck on the mental short-circuit of the girl showing up _here_ , without a Barrier Jacket, without her familiar, without even Bardiche that she could see. At her _home_. “Fa-” she tried again.

Teeth chattering, Fate Testarossa nonetheless looked resolute as she held out her hand.

“You wanted me to explain why I’m collecting the Jewel Seeds?” she asked. “Then come with me. I’ll explain _everything_.”

“I can’t... my family...”

“You can come back,” the girl urged. “I’m not asking you to commit to anything permanent. Just come and let me show you.”

“I... don’t...” Nanoha stood torn, undecided. She wanted to go with the girl, she really did. But she couldn’t just leave her family with no warning, and Yuuno’s warnings rang clear through her mind. She hesitated, wavering, unsure of what to do.

“Nanoha?” Momoko asked curiously, emerging from the kitchen with one hand still in an oven mitt. “What’s taking so long?” She looked curiously at the sodden girl standing on the doorstep, before her eyes slid past her, widening in shock at something outside. “Nanoha!”

Alerted by the woman’s expression, Fate moved without bothering to look back. One arm shoved Nanoha hard, sending her stumbling back into the house. At the same time, she threw herself in the other direction, putting herself out of the line of sight through the door even as half a dozen blue bolts slammed through the space she had been occupying; punching holes the size of tennis balls through one of the inner walls.

“Stop! This is the TSAB! Surrender, and you will not be harmed!” the amplified voice of the teenage boy called out.

Shocked and bruised from the fall, Nanoha stared at the holes wide-eyed from her position on the floor. Her surprise didn’t last long, though. Fate was still injured, if only mildly, and her grimace of pain did not speak well of the repercussions of her last-second dodge. Besides, the girl had just saved her - again - from the TSAB boy. Who had shot at her. Again. Heedless to the stunned presence of her mother in the room, her hand flew to the red gemstone around her neck.

“Raising Heart! Please!” she cried desperately, and her world became a sea of light the colour of cherry blossoms. A second later, clad in her Barrier Jacket and with Raising Heart in her hand, she darted to her feet and aimed through the door, searching for her target. A thought summoned the visor to her face, pink script illuminating the world and marking information and points of note. The one she was interested in...

For the second time in as many minutes, Nanoha went sprawling on the floor. This time it was voluntary, and not a moment too soon. The boy, apparently aware that return fire would be coming through the door, had changed positions, keeping the wall between him and his target. And when that had posed a minor problem in continuing his own attack, he had come to a relatively simple conclusion.

He shot through it.

The barrage of shots tore through the wall to one side of the door, punching holes clean through the brick and plaster without being noticeably slowed in the least. Once inside the room, they quivered momentarily before homing in on Fate. Nanoha spared a split second for appreciation of the homing qualities as wings of light burst into existence at her ankles and were supercharged with mana.

[Flash Move.]

And then she was in front of Fate, and bringing a shield up to block the shots as a burst of golden light and an energy spike from behind her revealed that yes, the girl _had_ brought her Device. “We need to get out of the house!” she said urgently, “this is my home, we can’t fight here!”

Her home. Her home, where her parents lived. Her home, where her parents lived, and where she had just been talking to...

Slowly, as if hoping very hard that she wouldn’t see what her mind glumly told her was there, Nanoha’s head turned towards her mother, standing next to the door to the kitchen. Momoko’s eyes were wide, her face pale, and she was leaning on the wall as if it was the only thing supporting her.

“Um...”

Another barrage of shots through the wall interrupted her - from behind! When had he... no matter. They splashed off a shield from Fate, and the blonde girl was next to her, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her across the room. “Wait-” Nanoha said, only to be cut off by a near-instant flash of telepathy, words resolving in her mind far faster than the mouth could form them.

 _‘He’s expecting us to go through the door. If we come out of there, he’ll shoot us. I’m sorry about this.’_ And she sounded like she meant it, she really did. _‘I’ll make it up to your mother. Somehow. But not right now.’_

Nanoha managed to snatch a single glance at her mother as Fate’s hand came up and a barrier projected out, rushing ahead of them towards the wide bay windows. In that split-second look, she conveyed guilt, apology, heartbreak and loss. The moment seemed to stretch out for hours, and yet was over in the blink of an eye.

Then the barrier hit glass, and sent it spraying out over the lawn beyond as the two figures tumbled through it on wings of light and magic. In the air now, unrestricted by the walls and ceiling, both of them sought for altitude, stopping twenty feet above the lawn and spinning back to back. The boy’s dark Barrier Jacket blended well with the dark of the early evening, but Nanoha’s visor picked him out with ease, hovering on the other side of the house to them. Scowling, furious at the damage done to her home, she snapped out a dozen pink bullets towards him, to force him into an evasion pattern or lock him down so that she could-

... watch, as they splashed off a glowing green barrier that formed in the air before him. Nanoha physically dropped a couple of feet in shock. Yuuno... was defending him? The boy who’d shot at her twice, and attacked her family home?

 _‘Nanoha, no! He’s one of the good guys! An Enforcer!’_ The tan form of her ferret-companion appeared on the roof below the three mages, hair bristled out in anxiety. _‘Please, Nanoha! Turn yourself in! Come with us! He can still fix this, if you just cooperate with him!’_

Behind her and slightly to the side, she felt the warmth of Fate’s body tense at the words. Yuuno must be broadcasting - probably so that the boy could hear as well. That would explain why he had stopped attacking, and was watching her, evaluating. She looked back at him fiercely, chin held high, expression furious. Looked at his terse expression and the Device her pointed at her, just as she pointed her own at him. Looked at his dark uniform, the spikes glinting on his shoulders and the frown on his face. Looked at the holes in the walls of her home, the frightened face of her mother watching from the shattered window and the broken glass strewn over the lawn. She felt power building behind her as Fate readied herself for a burst of speed, and silently held one hand back, open, inviting. Keeping her eyes on the boy - and his attention on her - she felt the other girl pause briefly before taking it, the motion hidden by Nanoha’s body.

 _‘Nanoha... everything can be sorted out,’_ Yuuno pleaded. _‘This doesn’t have to turn into a fight. Please, we can still fix this!’_

Nanoha looked down one last time at the pale face of her mother, frightened and confused, staring up at what was happening through the broken window. Yuuno wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her, she trusted him in that much. But the boy...

“No,” she said sadly, tears running down her face. She shook her head slowly, stifling a sob. “No,” she repeated, “He can't.”

The building power behind her reached its peak - too late, the boy noticed, too late to do anything to prevent it. Surrendering to the motion and letting Fate’s spell take her in its lightning grasp, Nanoha turned her back on her home, her family, her friend.

And fled.

...


	6. Chapter Five

The penthouse was large and lavish - richly decorated and comfortable. Nanoha didn’t really notice. Tugged inside by Fate, she responded blankly to the blonde girl ushering her into one of the bedrooms and telling her to get some sleep, excusing herself by saying she had to contact her mother. Left alone in the clean, luxurious room, Nanoha lay back on the bed and stared at the cream-painted ceiling blankly.

She had run. Everything had happened so fast, she hadn’t had time to think things through, nor to consider what would come of her actions. She had taken the only choice that seemed to present itself, and now...

... now she couldn’t go home. Or rather she could, but not without the TSAB catching her. And having run away from them twice already, they probably wouldn’t be as inclined to talk things over politely if they did. Would they go after her family?

No, probably not. On that, at least, she trusted Yuuno. Yuuno... the little ferret had taken the boy’s side. The Enforcer’s. With his evil-looking black uniform with spikes on it. Even when he attacked her home, Yuuno had shielded him... or had he just been trying to stop the fighting altogether? She couldn’t tell. Dimly, she was aware of a simmering ball of suppressed emotion bubbling away somewhere in the back of her mind. That would probably explode out at some point. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to care at the moment. She just felt... numb. Shock, probably. She knew a little about it from a first aid demonstration at school, though not exactly how it worked. From what she was aware of, though, the numbness now would last a while. And then... in a few hours, or maybe a day or so, it would all crash down at once and overwhelm her.

She wondered absently if she would feel better afterwards, rather than this strange non-feeling that occupied her thoughts at the moment. Right now, she couldn’t even muster up enough energy to panic. Fate was, she was pretty sure. The girl’s control had taken a knock when the TSAB had shown up, and she was fairly sure that showing up on her doorstep had been an act of desperation, the only recourse the blonde could think of.

Nanoha, though, just wished she could _stop_. Pause time, give herself some space to think. Rewind things, try again. But time was cruel and inexorable, and the seconds ticked by, each one taking her another step into the future, away from what had been said and done. There was no taking it back.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been lying there when the door was quietly nudged open and the orange-haired woman, Fate’s familiar, entered with a tray. She crossed the room wordlessly and set it down on the bedside cabinet, then sat on the end of the bed and regarded Nanoha with a hint of concern.

“Fate-chan’s worried about you,” she said after a moment or two, when Nanoha failed to react to her staring. “She said that you’d probably be upset about having to run away from your home.”

Nanoha didn’t reply, and the woman glanced around the room uncomfortably, hands unconsciously playing with the bed sheet. “She’s sorry for... what happened,” she carried on, in the absence of any reply. “She didn’t mean it to turn out that way, it’s just that the TSAB showed up and she knew that ferret would want you to join their side, and if that happened we might as well pack up and go home, and that would mean that her sister...” She trailed off, evidently even more uncomfortable now than before her babbling. “I’m worried about her,” she confessed. “She’s frantic about this mission, and panicking a little. Heck, I’m panicking a little. And... what I’m basically trying to say is... please don’t blame her. Please. If she could have kept you out of the whole thing she would have - not that I’m saying it’s your fault, but it’s not hers, and... basically...”

“It’s okay,” interrupted Nanoha shakily. “I understand what you’re trying to say. And... she didn’t bring the TSAB to my house. If they were able to track her, that boy would have moved to catch her before she even got the idea to visit me.” The artificial calm she was feeling leant a strange clarity to her thoughts, and she smiled sadly. “She just wanted to tell me her side of the story before the TSAB did. About her sister.” For the first time in the conversation she moved, rising up on her elbows and looking at the wolf-woman in curiosity. “You said that before. That they’d deny her a sister if they could. Is that who she’s fighting for? What’s going on?”

The familiar - Arf, Nanoha distantly remembered her name to be - looked uneasy. “I... I don’t think it’s my place to tell you,” she said with a minute shake of her head. “I should let Fate-chan do it. Or Precia-sama.”

“Precia-sama?”

Arf smiled slightly, a proud twitch of her lips that quickly faded in the tense atmosphere. “Fate-chan’s mother,” she explained. “She’s an amazing mage and a brilliant scientist. Fate-chan is talking to her now, filling her in on the situation and asking what we should do next. She’ll come tell us when she’s finished.”

“Oh.” Allowing herself to flop back down onto the bed, Nanoha returned her stare to the ceiling, replaying the events of the day in her head with an almost peaceful sense of detachment. Should she have gone with the TSAB mage like Yuuno wanted her to? Was it a mistake to have kept things from her parents? Was her mother still okay? The questions echoed back and forth in her head with no answer, until her private, internal monologue was interrupted again by Arf nudging her. Orange locks fell across her face as she nodded towards the tray on the bedside cabinet.

“Eat,” she prompted. “You need to keep your strength up. And it’s ramen, which is tasty, and some sort of yummy fruit drink I can’t remember the name of. But I think your people like it. There was a lot of it at the shop.”

“I’m not hungry,” Nanoha mumbled, making to roll over, but a hand caught her shoulder gently and stopped her. Arf regarded her seriously as she stood up.

“I know you might not be hungry, but you still have to eat. You can’t find out what’s going on or help Fate-chan’s sister, or sneak out to visit your family or hunt Jewel Seeds or... anything, really, if you don’t eat enough and wind up fainting from hunger.” She sounded as if she was quoting someone, and her next words confirmed it. “Linith-oneesama is very clear on that,” she said sagely, “and she used to scold Fate-chan when she trained too hard and forgot to have lunch or supper. So you should eat, even if you don’t want to.”

Nanoha sighed, but she could see that the familiar had a point. And she just didn’t have the energy to get into an argument over it at the moment. Dragging herself up into a sitting position, she moved the tray over onto her lap and started to pick at the ramen, wincing slightly at the amount of spicy seasonings it had been loaded down with. Nevertheless, she was making decent headway on it when the door swung open once again, and Fate entered the room. Raising an amused eyebrow at Arf as she took in Nanoha’s reaction to what she was eating, she waited until she had their attention before speaking.

“I talked to Mother,” she said. “We’re to go back to the Garden at once.” She turned to Nanoha, voice gentle. “She’ll explain everything to you,” she assured her, “you’ll see. And Linith will be there as well. You’ll like her.”

“When are we going?” Arf spoke up, as Nanoha finished her mouthful. Fate glanced at the half-empty bowl and nodded decisively.

“As soon as she finishes,” she ordered. “Start packing.”

...

A crackle.

A shower of sparks.

A plume, as branches of lightning stretched out from the centre of the circle, delicately dancing their way across the teleportation circle like incandescent fingers. The golden point of light they emanated from expanded into a pillar; actinic sparks like cloud lightning moving within the background glow, before fading to reveal three figures.

“Fate-chan!” greeted Linith enthusiastically from where she had been waiting in the doorway. “It’s wonderful to see you! And this must be Nanoha! Fate-chan has told us about you, I’m glad to finally meet you!” Her warm, friendly greeting pulled a bemused smile from the brunette, even as Fate smiled in fond exasperation.

“Honestly, Linith. I haven’t even been gone a whole day.”

“And in that day, you fought another Jewel Seed, got yourself injured, faced off with the TSAB twice and made a new friend! I was so _worried_ when I heard that you were hurt, too. Here, let me look, I want to be sure you’ve cared for it properly.”

Nanoha followed the pair of them through the strange, twisting corridors of the place as the older woman fussed over the younger. It was a side of her rival-slash-potential-ally that she hadn’t seen before - almost flustered at the attention and worry, and trying in vain to stop Linith from assessing the state of her injuries as they walked. Despite her harmless appearance and friendly nature, it was clear that the familiar was a force to be reckoned with. Nanoha mentally filed her into the same category as her mother, and made a mental note not to upset her if she wound up staying. It was amazing how scary kind, gentle, maternal people could become if they found evidence of crockery being broken or mud being tracked into the house.

... not that Nanoha would know anything about that sort of thing. Of course.

Her attention wandered as they walked. The place was... odd. Curves were part of it. There were curves everywhere. The corridors, the walls - it looked almost organic, as if the passages had been grown rather than built. She was used to straight lines and right angles, the kind of architecture that was the prevailing norm on Earth. This ‘Garden of Time’ was nothing like that. The light was strange, and through the strange, jagged yet clearly crafted gaps in the walls she could see odd devices and hulking lumps of machinery.

At least, she thought it was machinery. Some of it looked more like it should be decorating a museum - though it looked both far too advanced and far too ancient to be in any of the museums she had been to with her parents. A few of the ritualistic-looking gaps in the walls had been boarded over, and Linith hustled them past those quickly. “You shouldn’t go into those rooms,” she warned, “the ambient magic levels are a little too high to be safe. And don’t touch any of the devices unless you know what they do, and if in any doubt at all, assume you don’t.” She shot a glance at Nanoha. “Um... actually, you probably just shouldn't touch anything here unless it looks like it doesn't belong in these old-fashioned sections,” she added to the Earth-girl, who nodded in response as she continued looking round. “Those newer bits are the things I’ve added... you know, for the homey touch.”

The carvings. They were... strange. Someone had obviously tried to redecorate the place, papering over some of them and leaving paint and vases of flowers around in an attempt to draw the eye away from the flowing patterns. As far as Nanoha could tell, it hadn’t worked very well. They seemed to suck the eyes to them, beguiling her to trace their nauseating twists and angles, searching for meanings that she knew were there, yet couldn’t quite decipher...

Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her head was throbbing all of a sudden, a piercing pain that had sprung into being as she stared at the elaborate decorations. She resolved to ignore them in future. Or paper over them some more, maybe. They were like those annoying optical illusions back on Earth, where the harder you started at them, the more your eyes hurt from trying to pick out all the details.

Fate fell back, allowing Arf to take over Linith’s attention. Following Nanoha’s gaze, she nodded as replying to a comment on them from the other girl. “The original artwork of the place,” she murmured quietly. “Don’t stare at them too long, you’ll give yourself eyestrain. Mother says they were a way to represent three-dimensional spell-images before people had displays. And we’re nearly there.”

And it was true. The corridors were opening up, looking more... normal, and less of a twisty, long-abandoned maze. Pillars lined the wider hallways, arching up to meet the high ceilings and bearing dusty curtains or hangings in the spaces between them.

And at the end of the corridor, two doors. Massive, ornate, golden affairs, they swung silently open as the trio approached them, welcoming them into the vast chamber beyond. And at the centre of the chamber...

“Ah,” said the woman, sitting with impossible poise on the high throne that occupied the centre of the room. She smiled, lips curving up in pleasant surprise as if she hadn’t been waiting for them since they arrived. “You must be Nanoha.”

“Uh... yes. Precia-san?” Nanoha unconsciously smoothed her dress down, trying not to fidget under the cool violet eyes.

“Indeed,” confirmed the woman. “Please, allow me to express my most sincere apologies for the trouble my daughter and I have caused you. And my deepest sympathies for the damage done to your family and home tonight by the TSAB. I hope I can offer some slight reassurance in the fact that they are safe.” She caught Nanoha’s sudden expression of hope and relief, and smiled warmly in response. “Yes, child. I cannot divine many details from my scrying - no images or communication - but from what I have been able to detect, they are all in good health and the TSAB agent has left. Your family is safe, I promise you.” She let the words hang in the air for a moment as Nanoha drank in the knowledge, thankful that her family was unharmed by the ordeal. Then, looking around the vast, airy hall they stood in, she clasped her hands together and leaned forward.

“But I think this is the wrong setting to talk in, don’t you?” she asked with a conspiratorial smile. “So dreary and draughty. Shall we retire to somewhere more comfortable? And perhaps get some drinks, as well. Then I can explain all of the confusion and set things straight for you.”

Agreeing readily with the suggestion, Nanoha and Fate followed as Precia rose and swept across the chamber to a side door. The room on the other side was smaller, about the size of Nanoha’s kitchen, and three armchairs were arranged around a low table at the centre. Precia drifted over to one of them and sank back into the soft cushions with a hum of contentment, beckoning the girls to sit down in turn.

“Linith?” she asked politely, “if you could get us some coco? And perhaps some of the cake that Fate-chan brought back so thoughtfully?” she added, her daughter blushing with pride at the words.

As the sandy-haired familiar nodded and left, Precia turned her attention back to Nanoha. “Before I explain, though, I must ask something,” she began. “The TSAB mage who attacked your home - is there any possibility he could have tracked you back there? I confess to being a little worried as to how easily he located you.”

Nanoha bit her lip, thinking. “Um... I don’t _think_ he followed me,” she said uncertainly. “I thought I had lost him while Arf-san held him off. Oh, thank you very much for that, Arf-san!” She directed the last comment to the orange-furred wolf lying placidly by the side of Fate’s armchair, who acknowledged her thanks with a soft huff of acceptance.

Precia’s brow furrowed, and she drummed her fingers on the mahogany arm of the lush chair she sat in. “Hmm,” she mused, deep in thought. “Yes, I believe you on that score. Had he followed you to your home and been waiting there, he would undoubtedly have attacked prior to Fate-chan’s arrival, so as better to deal with you one-on-one. The details of the attack that Fate described... sound more like a desperate effort to prevent her from explaining the situation to you, having barely arrived in time. But how did he know to arrive at that time in the first place?” The long, elegant fingers drummed a soft rhythm on the wood as she considered, lips pursing. Nanoha tried to think of a way as well - could he have used some sort of detection spell? No, she would surely have sensed that, wouldn’t she? How, then?

“Ah,” remarked Precia, breaking the brief silence. “Interesting. Perhaps he was not drawn there by his efforts, but rather by an outside source? He must have received some impetus to arrive at precisely that moment.” She paused briefly, throwing a significant look at the brunette sitting across from her. “... in fact. I seem to recall mention of... let me see...” Fingers drummed once more on the dark wood, and two purple circles of magic appeared before her, with holograms above them of...

“Yuuno!” Nanoha gasped in recognition, before her mind connected the dots and realised what the woman was saying. Her eyes widened as her face went pale, and she repeated her friends in a disbelieving whisper of betrayal. “Yuuno...”

“Yuuno Scrya, is that correct?” Precia asked. Nanoha nodded numbly, trying to wrap her head around the revelation that her friend may have been the one to summoned the TSAB to her home. Movement caught her eye, and she looked up as the circles expanded slightly, the holographic figures above it enlarging proportionally. She recognised the first, of course - the tan form of her friend was a familiar sight. The other, though, was one she didn’t know. A boy her own age whose blond-brown hair was similar in tone to Yuuno’s fur, he wore a Barrier Jacket of brown and cream. And his eyes were green - as green as her friend’s.

“Who...” she asked, pointing at the strangely familiar-looking boy with a slightly trembling hand, “who is that, please?” She was fairly sure she already knew, but she wanted to be sure.

Precia blinked in mild surprise. “That is Yuuno Scrya, child,” she informed the girl. “Don’t you recognise him? I thought the two of you were partners?”

Numb once more from the third grave shock in the past few hours, Nanoha shook her head mutely. She searched for words, struggling to make them come, but they stuck in her throat as she stared at the young archaeologist - the _human_ archaeologist, who had kept that fact from her. Did he not trust her? Why had he not said anything about it? A lie by omission was still a lie... so why was Yuuno lying to her?

“Nanoha-san?”

Nanoha blinked, snapped out of her reverie again by Fate’s voice. The blonde was looking over at her in concern. “Are you saying you didn’t know he is a human mage?” Pausing briefly, she took the look on the other girl’s face as assent, and glanced at her mother speculatively. “Could there be any reason for him to hide the fact, Mother?”

Precia’s sympathetic smile had a hint of smirk in it as she shook her head. “None that I can think of,” she replied. “Did he tell you that he has been sending out requests for TSAB aid since not long after he arrived on the planet?” Nanoha’s head jerked up at that, surprise clear in her eyes. Precia arched an eyebrow. “I see... I have been blocking his messages, since I have reasons - which I shall explain presently - for not wanting the TSAB to get involved. But that he didn’t see fit to inform you of his actions... I wonder what else he has neglected to tell you? Or even lied outright to you about? Forgive my bluntness, but you are a native of an Unadministered World, and ignorant of wider Dimensional Space. Were he to feed you untruths, would you ever know?”

Nanoha shook her head, betrayal and heartbreak clear in her expression. She was shaking slightly from the repeated impacts to her beliefs, and barely noticed as Fate slipped out of her seat and moved quietly across to her.

She did notice as a body squeezed in beside her on the oversized chair, and an arm went around her shoulders. She looked up into the burgundy gaze she had most often seen over a readied Device, now mere inches from her own, and Fate smiled down at her compassionately. “It’s okay,” she mumbled, “we’ll help you. Your family’s still safe, and Mother can tell you the things that the ferret wouldn’t.”

Precia watched with a calculating smile as Fate comforted her rival-turned-friend, electing to remain silent as they bonded. When Linith appeared with a tray of food and drinks, she nodded quietly at the table, holding a finger to her lips, and smirked in amusement as the girls failed to notice the tray as Linith set it down. Deciding that they had been talking for enough time, she gently cleared her throat, acquiring their attention once again.

“The drinks are here,” she pointed out, nodding at the cups of coco and slices of cake. “Please, help yourself.” Nanoha took one of the cups, peering at the beverage within curiously, and took an experimental sip. Her nose wrinkled at the slightly bitter taste of very dark chocolate, but she smiled and took a longer one.

“I like it,” she decided. “What is it?”

“Coco,” explained Precia. “A fairly common drink amongst Administered worlds. I believe it comes from the same kind of plant as what goes into the chocolate on the cake Fate-chan brought back for me, though you seem to serve it rather sweeter than is customary.” She delicately carved off a slice of the gateau with a fork and popped it into her mouth, savouring it. “Though,” she added with a smile, “I believe I could acquire a taste for it.”

Grinning at the compliment and taking a bite herself, Nanoha blinked in surprise, glancing at the cake before looking from Precia to Fate in confusion. “This...” she started hesitantly, and took another bite to make sure. “This is my mama’s recipe. From my family’s bakery. How did you get this?”

The question was confused rather than accusatory, but Fate blushed slightly nonetheless. “I... uh... bought it at your family’s bakery,” she admitted. “Your sister, I think, helped me choose it. Miyuki, yes? She was really nice and helpful. And generous. I’m glad I got to talk to her.” She smiled happily at the memory, and Nanoha grinned back delightedly.

“She is, isn’t she? And she’s really smart, too!” She bit her lip before starting to boast about her family, looking at Fate in a new light. “So you went to the Midori-ya.” A frown. “How did you know which it was?”

Fate blushed, offering a small, sheepish grin. "Um. You were... interesting. And new. I’d never met anyone like you before. So I looked into your background a little, to find out what kind of person you were.” She paused briefly, considering. “Well, and also you look an awful lot like your mother. Who was at the till, in plain sight of the door.”

Sensing that the topic was straying somewhat, Precia cleared her throat again. “I’m glad the two of you think highly of one another,” she smiled, “but I believe I promised Takamachi-san I would explain the situation? I shall summarise, then. Arf told you that the TSAB would deny Fate a sister. To be more accurate, they would destroy all hope of saving the one she has.” Her eyes unfocused slightly as she drifted far away into the depths of memory. When she spoke next, her voice was wistful, with a painful undercurrent of grief. Her gaze focused on her hands in her lap, twisting around one another as she told the story. “A long time ago, I had a daughter. Her name was Alicia, and she was a wonderful child. Loving, generous, kind and happy. A treasure in every way.”

She smiled sadly, as bitterness crept into her tone. “But it could not last. In those days, I was a leading scientist, working on a new type of magical reactor. A power plant design - a generator that would pull energy from the turbulence in the Dimensional Sea itself, steadying out the ripples somewhat by drawing their potential energy into real space, where it could be used productively. But something went wrong... the funders pushed for results too far, too fast. On the test day of the reactor, it malfunctioned, and exploded violently.”

She looked up, and the weight of guilt was painfully visible in her expression. “Alicia,” she breathed, “... our house was within the blast radius. Waiting for me to get back from work that day. She... she probably didn’t even know what it was that...” she swallowed, taking a steadying breath. “I survived the explosion, but by the time I arrived, she had slipped away. But I knew that she wasn’t completely gone. I put her into stasis, froze her in time. She was clinically dead, far beyond the help of any modern medicine, but I had faith that I could find some way to save her, some way to bring her _back_. Fate-chan came of one attempt - a failure in its intended purpose, but infinitely valuable for what it brought me instead -a second child, a sister to Alicia, who cared as much for her dormant sibling as I did. She has been a wonderful help to me in trying to revive Alicia.”

Beside Nanoha, Fate was trembling with pride and happiness, drinking in the praise. She had obviously heard the story before, but she clung raptly to her mother’s every word, intent on the woman’s retelling.

“And that has been most evident recently. Because with the Jewel Seeds, I believe I may have a chance to revive my precious daughter. There was once an ancient civilisation - Alhazred - who crafted wonders beyond the imaginations of anyone living today. The whole of the Garden of Time, this sanctuary in the Dimensional Sea, was born of their genius, and the miracles they performed would be called impossible today. They were lost, many millennia ago, but with the power of the Jewel Seeds, I can develop and cast a spell that will open a gateway to them, and allow us to bear Alicia to their doors and request their aid in helping her. From all that I have been able to discover of them, they would be capable of it.”

She scowled. “But the TSAB, overly restrictive fools that they are, would stop me from even trying. Never mind that the secrets I might bring back could save millions of lives, never mind that it is perfectly feasible. They would declare it too dangerous, mandate that I am incapable of controlling such magic - despite all evidence to the contrary - and deny me the ability to even _attempt_ my daughter’s rescue. They would unplug the machines that keep Alicia tethered to life and bury her in an unmarked grave - they would, if they could, have denied Fate-chan even the chance to exist, for the process that created her is another they have declared illegal on no authority past their own, regardless of what it can bring about.”

She turned pleading eyes on Nanoha. “Takamachi-san... you owe me nothing, and I am afraid that I have little to offer you besides what knowledge and magical training I could give in return for your help. But... please. Please, for Alicia’s sake... I would ask if you are willing to help us save her. She is not beyond help, and a life so young and innocent... she didn’t deserve to die.” Tears glimmered in the woman’s eyes, and the edge of grief was still in her voice. “I... I just want to hold her again, and tell her I’m sorry. I know we have caused you trouble, but... please, can you offer your aid?”

It wasn’t even a decision. Nanoha stood up abruptly, her chin held eye and her back straight. Clenched fists quivered by her sides as a determined look settled firmly across her face. “Absolutely!” she agreed. “I’ll definitely help you! Nobody should have to lose a family member like that!” She hesitated briefly, realising something. “Oh... um... I actually have some Jewel Seeds! Mostly the ones I collected before Fate-chan showed up, but... um... are you sure they’re safe? Only that quake...”

“I am a Great Mage, child,” Precia interrupted soothingly. “Your concern and worry does you credit, but I believe you saw Fate-chan seal the Seed that caused that? All the magic she knows came from me. I give you my word that the Seeds will be kept sealed and stable until the time comes to use them, and that I am fully confident of my ability to do so safely.”

Nanoha looked at her for a few seconds, judging her sincerity. Then she called up Raising Heart and closed her eyes, allowing the six blue gems to rise up out from the crimson gem. Looking up at Precia, her expression was one of palpable sympathy and the raw desire to help.

“Here,” she offered softly. “I hope they’re enough.”

Precia gathered the gems carefully, allowing her own Device to absorb them one by one as she favoured the girl with a wordless expression of thanks. “They are a treasure beyond repayment, child,” she answered. “And with those that Fate has gathered for me, they make thirteen - enough, potentially, to cast the spell now. But every Seed beyond these increases the chances of success yet more, and removes a potentially deadly threat to your home. So I would ask you to try and collect as many more as you can, before the TSAB can gather themselves and deploy their soldiers to the scene.”

“Right!” the girls chorused, and Precia nodded to them. “In that case,” she acknowledged, “I will leave you to talk. Oh, and Takamachi-san?” She waited until she had the girl’s full attention before continuing. “Once you have rested, and eaten, and feel you have fully recovered from your trying day, please come to see me. If you wish, I will show you Alicia, so that you can see what you are fighting for in concrete form, and explain more about the TSAB and those you will be defending her from.”

And as the girl nodded fiercely, Precia turned back to the door, sweeping through it to return to her work.

And smirked.

...

“Alright then,” began Lindy, kneeling calmly behind a low wooden table. She regarded the two boys kneeling uncomfortably on the other side, throwing the odd glare at one another from the corners of their eyes and not touching their tea. She pursed her lips, deciding to start with the known factor. “Chrono-chan,” she prompted, “your report?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yes, mo- Admiral. My initial engagement went poorly - I arrived too late to stop the Lost Logia from being sealed by the white-clad mage, Hostile-2...”

“Her _name_ is _Nanoha_ ,” interrupted the blond boy. Yuuno Scrya. Chrono opened his mouth to retort, but Lindy cut him off before he could get started.

“Acknowledged, Scrya-san,” she smiled, “but please allow Chrono-chan to finish his report before we hear your own retelling of events. This will go much faster without interruptions.” She waited for a nod, and then gestured to Chrono to keep going.

“Right. As I was saying, I arrived too late to stop the... to stop this Nanoha girl from sealing the Lost Logia after destroying its manifestation with some kind of high-level spell. A-rank at least, I would estimate. I declared myself and ordered them to come in for questioning, as per regulations, but Hostile-1 immediately ran. Given the severity of the situation and the potential for harm, I opted to move straight to Level Three force to try to non-lethally subdue her, bearing in mind her activated Barrier Jacket and Device. The... Nanoha seemed to have frozen, but either she was faking or she snapped out of it very quickly, because she managed to block my shots and join the blonde, H1, in fleeing. I attempted to pursue them, but the familiar H3 held a stalling action until they had got away and then managed to evade me herself.”

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I started to search the area, but turned up nothing - whatever else the blonde is, she’s good at covering her tracks. I returned to the Asura, until the communication came in a short while ago from Scrya, here. He reported a sighting of H1, so I went down to bring her into custody. She was in a private residence along with the other gir, H2 - it looked like a rendezvous. I tried to subdue her from surprise, but she was warned by the actions of someone else inside the building and dodged. I tried to contain them, but she’s ridiculously fast, and I wasn’t able to prevent them from getting away. Whoever taught her to mask her trail is skilled; I wasn’t able to follow her. Her partner isn’t quite as advanced, but-”

“What are you talking about?” Yuuno demanded, his patience eroded. “They’re not partners! Nanoha was working with _me!_ ”

Chrono raised a scornful eyebrow. “Really,” he said flatly, “well, that’s certainly not the impression I got from their cooperation.”

“That’s a recent thing. They were rivals for the Jewel Seeds up until the dimensional quake. And if they’re cooperating _now_ , it’s probably because you attacked Nanoha in her _home_.”

The room went very quiet for a moment.

“... what?” Chrono said, softly.

“Her home? Where she and her family live? Nanoha is a _native_ , you idiot! And your first impression wasn’t exactly-”

“No.” Chrono’s expression was one of sheer disbelief. “No, that was _not_ a native. I refuse to believe that. For crying out loud, she has to be at least AA-rank! And with a Device, to boot. Not to mention the magic she was using - I certainly don’t see any Mid-style academies on this world, do you?”

“She _is_ a native! A prodigy! She’s picked up all the magic she used since I met her - heck, most of it is what I taught her!”

Silence fell for the second time in as many minutes as the TSAB officers reoriented their mental pictures to include this fact.

“... damn,” exhaled Chrono. “You’re serious? Absolutely sure?”

“Certain. She had enough latent talent to hear me call for help, and has been helping me seal the Jewel Seeds for two or three months. She was a perfectly normal schoolgirl when I met her, nothing more. Just a really, really fast learner.”

Chrono’s eyes defocused as he thought hard. “Damn,” he repeated. “In that case...” he made a frustrated noise, “I’ve screwed up. I had assumed she was an off-world mage, but if she’s a native... that complicates things.” He looked over to Lindy, who was watching with a concerned frown. “I’ll have to go and make a formal apology to her family.”

She nodded, eyes troubled. “And more immediately, I think we need the full story from Scrya-san. We appear to have even less information than we thought we did. If you could start from the beginning, Scyra-san?”

Yuuno licked dry lips with an edge of nervous anticipation. “Yes, of course,” he agreed on automatic, trying to order his thoughts. “Okay... um... you know the Scrya clan?” Lindy nodded wordlessly, and he continued. “Right. Um... I found the Jewel Seeds during a dig. If you look through the records, my initial observations on them should be logged in the file they were registered with, but to summarise, they appear to be incredibly powerful Alhazredian power-storage devices. And maybe a lot more, I’m not sure. Regardless, when activated wrong, they’re capable of seriously damaging dimensional space. The ship that was carrying them was damaged in transit, and they were scattered over this region.”

He took a deep breath, glancing at the green-haired woman. Her intent gaze was almost uncomfortable, but her face was a blank, professional mask that betrayed nothing of what she was thinking. Swallowing, he continued. “I... I was the one who dug them up. They were my responsibility. So I came to try and reseal them, to prevent them from damaging the region. Only... they were too strong. Even the first one to activate, with the least amount of time to draw in ambient mana, almost killed me. I had to take on my ferret form to conserve energy, and called for help. Nanoha heard me... somehow, and showed up a little later, coming back from school. She took care of my injuries as best she could and left me at an animal doctor to be treated. And then when the Jewel Seed came back, she heard me again and came to help. With her aid... no, in fact. She was the one who defeated it; I did very little in that fight. She controlled the Device on her first try, manifested a Barrier Jacket and subdued the Jewel Seed. I was astonished. But I knew that I couldn’t seal the Jewel Seeds alone, and she already knew about magic. So I asked her to help me, and she agreed.”

Lindy raised an inquisitive finger. “Was there a reason,” she asked, “why you went to do this yourself, instead of asking for help?”

He flushed slightly. “I... um... the thought didn’t really cross my mind when I left.” Then he frowned. “But that’s a point, actually. I’ve been sending out requests for help since I got here! Why hasn’t the TSAB responded to any of them?”

Lindy’s frown mirrored that of the boy she was looking at as she slowly shook her head. “We haven’t picked up anything like that. Or any traffic at all. And we’ve had all of our sensors trained on this planet since the quake. Even before that, we should have been able to pick up something like that.”

“I sent them, I swear! I’m not lying!”

“Oh, I believe you sent them,” Lindy assured the young mage. “I never meant to dispute that. But we haven’t picked up any transmissions.”

“You suspect they were blocked,” stated Chrono. It was not a question. Nonetheless, she nodded in confirmation.

“Yes,” she agreed. “And that has worrying implications, given the skill and power that would be needed to detect, intercept and block transmissions off the planet without alerting anyone. This blonde girl may have some serious backing. Which in turn leads to the conclusion that her efforts to retrieve the Lost Logia aren’t merely an opportunistic grab for power. Someone _wants_ them. Someone prepared.” She blinked, and turned pale. “How many Lost Logia did you say Nanoha-san had retrieved?”

Now Yuuno was the one to mirror her expression. “Half a dozen, if you count this last one,” he croaked. “And added the ones that Testarossa-san has already gathered, that’s probably more than half of them.”

Lindy froze. “I- I’m sorry?” she stammered, “Could you repeat that? Testarossa?”

“The blonde girl - the other mage. Her name is Fate Testarossa.” Yuuno tilted his head, interested. “Do you recognise the name? It seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t pin it down.”

Lindy closed her eyes for a moment, sending a mental order. Soft light played above the table and a holographic window formed, showing a picture of a pale, violet-haired woman beside lines of text. An ID, Yuuno realised. She twitched her fingers to expand it as her eyes flickered over the details, confirming her suspicions.

“Testarossa,” she said in a voice heavy with apprehension. “Precia Testarossa. Great Mage, SS-rank at least. Genius scientist and magical researcher. Wanted dimensional criminal. Last sighted almost twelve years ago, she was in charge of the Mikihara Project.”

“The... reactor?” Chrono looked up sharply. “The one that went critical? I remember reading about that, it killed... thousands? Or was it tens of thousands? Some sort of new energy source, or it was meant to be. I didn’t know she was in charge of it, though.”

Lindy nodded. “It’s why she went into exile in the first place. Public backlash was... harsh. Especially when it was discovered that she’d skipped several safety regulations to get the project unveiled faster.” She let out a tense breath. “The name isn’t conclusive, of course... but if she _is_ involved in this, we are very much in over our heads. Especially now that Nanoha-san has...” she grimaced, “apparently joined forces with this Fate girl.”

“You don’t...” Yuuno started to protest, but trailed off weakly. “She... she might not have,” he tried, uncertainly. Lindy briefly wondered whether he was trying to convince her, or himself.

She looked at him sympathetically, letting him think about what he had just said. “I truly hope that is the case, Scrya-san,” she prompted gently, “but you know her better than I do. Do you really believe she will come back to help us?”

“... no,” he muttered, looking down. A sideways glare was thrown at Chrono. “Which is still mostly your fault. How are you even an Enforcer at your age, anyway? Shouldn't you be just going through your cadet training now?”

Chrono bristled. “I’ll have you know I’m fully qualified for my job, ferret-boy,” he growled. Yuuno let out a scoff.

“Sure,” he responded. “Because you handled this situation _so_ well. You know, Nanoha had a real problem believing you had real authority because you were too young. And also because you dress in black, and have spikes on your shoulders, and... you scared her off, you moron! This is _your_ fault!”

“ _My_ fault?” The young Enforcer drew himself up and retaliated caustically. “ _I_ operated on the information I had at the time! She was using AA-rank Mid-style and an Intelligent Device! Which, I might add, she didn’t get from nowhere.” He stared challengingly at the blonde archaeologist, who flushed and looked down.

“Well...” he said, suddenly hesitant, “you- you've seen my file; I'm very good without a Device. And Raising Heart didn’t really suit me anyway, whereas its areas of speciality match up very well with Nanoha’s. So I thought that we could double our effectiveness and... since I was injured... um...”

“Wonderful,” bit out Chrono, “So now the _AA-rank prodigy_ has an _Intelligent Device_ that’s perfectly suited to her talents. Well done on that one. No, really. I'm very impressed at your initiative.” He paused briefly, letting the sarcasm sink in, “Except for, you know, that minor detail of her _not being on our side anymore_.”

“Oh? And whose fault is that, Mr I'll-Just-Shoot-The-Walls-Down? Maybe if you hadn't-”

“ _Children_.”

The promise of a horrible death resounded in Lindy’s voice as the word cracked out. Both boys froze in mutual, terrified silence.

“... thank you,” smiled Lindy, snapping back to her normal self as quickly as she’d left it. “Now, I don’t believe that our problems will be made any easier to solve by turning on one another. We shall simply have to work with what we have. Scrya-san? Is there any chance we can convince Nanoha-san to come back to our side?”

“Um,” ventured Yuuno in a small voice. “I’m... not... really sure. I'm a little worried about her development, actually. She's learning things very, very quickly, but she has no cultural context for them. She does things because she thinks that magic should work like the stories here on UA-97, and has enough power to just plough straight through the normal stumbling blocks and any other bad things that happen to her. I mean, she used a shooting device as a melee weapon just because she saw Fate using it. And invented reactive-detonation for her barrier jacket from first principles. And I’m not sure where that last spell she uses against the Jewel Seed came from.”

Chrono closed his eyes tightly for a second, muttering something unpleasant. “That’s... not good. At that rate of development, she's a definite asset to the other side. How do we convince her to help us, instead?”

Yuuno thought about it, his face troubled. “I’m not sure we _can_ ,” he admitted. “Nanoha is one of the stubbornest people I have ever met. And given some of the people I've worked with, that's saying something. Plus, she was already starting to form a strong... she likes Testarossa-san. If they had met in any other circumstances, I think they would be best friends. She’s unlikely to abandon her easily. Not to mention the fact that if Precia Testarossa is behind this, she’ll almost certainly poison Nanoha against the TSAB.”

Lindy sighed. “I see. So, to summarise, we have two AA-rank mages, possibly with an SS-rank genius dimensional criminal backing them, who hold perhaps a dozen or so world-ending Lost Logia between them. And we have no idea what they plan to use them for.” She brought a hand up to massage her temples, feeling a headache coming on. “Alright, we’ll need the rest of the story, Scrya-san. But first I’m going to put in a call for backup, because as matters stand, our combat-capable insertion agents sum to a grand total of you two. Provided you’re still willing to help, Scrya-san.”

“Of course I am!” Yuuno exclaimed. “But... um... yes. Backup would be appreciated. Very appreciated.”

“Alright,” nodded Lindy, rising to her feet. “I’ll put in the request immediately, and then you can brief us on the rest of the details. And please try not to leave anything out.” She hesitated at the door. “Incidentally, you’ve been operating without a Device?”

“Uh... yes?”

She frowned. “Right. We’ll have no more of _that_. I’ll issue you a stock one from the ship stores and see if we can’t do something about getting a better-suited one for you. If you two are all we have for now, there’s no way I’m going to send you in unprepared.” Giving a decisive nod, she stepped out into the corridor, and the doors hissed shut behind her.

A moment of silence passed, broken by Chrono. “So,” he remarked, seemingly casually, “exactly what did you teach the AA-rank prodigy we’re now going to have to fight against?”

Gritting his teeth at the thinly veiled accusation, Yuuno sighed and began to recount as much as he could remember of what Nanoha was capable of.

...

“My sister’s a magical girl,” said Miyuki disbelievingly. She stared at the table for a few seconds, trying to find words to put to her thoughts. “... not that I disbelieve you, mum, it’s just...”

Shiro overrode her, slamming the table violently. “This is impossible!” he exploded. “Nanoha? A magical girl? How did this happen? And an attack on our home? What the hell is going on here?”

“Shiro!” Momoko snapped, breaking his steadily-rising rant. Her face softened as his anger returned to a low simmer. “I know you’re frustrated, dear. But...” she swallowed uncertainly, “... however impossible it sounds, it happened. We can see the evidence of that.” She nodded at the damage left by the fight, debris from the walls scattered over the carpet and the glass-strewn lawn, just visible through the kitchen door. “The important thing now is to work out what is going on. And for that, we need to stay calm.” A significant look passed between the couple, the silent communication born from years of marriage trading a world of emotion and assurance in the space of mere seconds. Eventually, reluctantly, Shiro nodded and sat down.

“Fine,” he agreed grudgingly. “Were you able to get any clear idea on why this boy attacked her, then?” His gaze strayed over the holes in the far wall with a scowl. “What the hell was his justification for it?”

Momoko shook her head. “He certainly said something, but it was gibberish to me. I’m not even sure what language it was in,” she replied. “Let alone who he was or why he felt the need to shoot half a dozen holes in the wall with shots aimed at my daughter.” A delicate hand clenched around the lip of the kitchen table with enough force to whiten her knuckles, giving the lie to her relatively controlled expression and tone of voice.

“Maybe he was a rival magic-user of some sort?” Miyuki theorised. “And she... I dunno, broke some freaky magical rules or something?”

“Are we even sure it’s magic?” Kyouya offered. “Maybe it was just really advanced technology or something?”

“What, that our little sister got her hands on? How?” Miyuki rebutted. “Though on that note, the question of when this started is a good one. She has been... _off_ , for the past few months. How long has this been going on? What _else_ has been going on? What-”

“Where did the boy come from? That’s what I want to know,” said Kyouya, talking over her. “If he attacked, he must have had a reason. Where did _he_ learn magic, and-”

“Miyuki, Kyouya!” snapped Shiro with uncharacteristic sharpness, grabbing their attention. He waited until they had both stopped talking before continuing. “Alright, wild theorising won’t get us anywhere. Let’s review what we know and give your mother a chance to speak.”

Suitably chastised, they fell silent, waiting for Momoko to speak. She breathed in slowly, closing her eyes to think. Kyouya noticed her shoulders trembling slightly and moved around to rest a hand on hers in a silent offer of support. Momoko opened her eyes at the touch and gave him a shaky smile in thanks.

“... the blonde girl knew her,” she decided after a moment’s thought. “They knew each other, in fact. Reasonably well, from the way they were cooperating. And I would harbour a guess that the blonde was probably the mysterious rival that Nanoha has been having trouble with lately. Arisa-chan and Suzuka-chan mentioned something about a rude woman recognising Nanoha while we were at the springs, and having a rather cryptic conversation with her. From what little they were able to get out of her, she had apparently met a blonde girl connected to the woman somehow, who had made something of an impression.”

Shiro nodded thoughtfully. “So we have a magical blonde rival,” he mused. “Gods, I can’t believe this is...” he cut off, shaking his head and muttering something that only Momoko caught, and responded to with a disapproving frown. “Fine. Fine, okay. So the blonde... do we have a better description than just ‘blonde girl’?”

“I- I didn’t get a very good look at her,” admitted Momoko. “It all happened so fast... she was about Nanoha’s height. A black dress... drenched, like the rest of her. She must have been out in that storm for a long time. Oh, and red eyes. That struck me, at the time, it’s an unusual... Miyuki?”

The teenager in question had looked up in surprise at the last point of the description. “Red eyes?” she confirmed. “And her hair... up in two long ponytails?”

Slowly, Momoko nodded. Miyuki sat back, paling slightly. “The girl from the shop... don’t you remember, mum? Who bought the cake? Her name was... let me think for a second... Fate, I think it was. She was talking about a falling out with a friend, too... oh _dammit!_ She must have meant Nanoha! And I had just talked to Nanoha that morning about the _same damn thing!_ Why didn’t I-”

Momoko laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Calm down, dear. There are thousands of girls their age in this city; you had no possible way of knowing they were talking about each other. And it is nice that we have a name. So, this... Fate. I presume you gave her the same advice you gave Nanoha?”

Miyuki nodded.

“Then I think she may have been coming to try and talk things over. Nanoha certainly didn’t seem hostile towards her - surprised, certainly, when I came out of the kitchen to look. But not at all hostile.”

“And that was when the boy attacked them?” Shiro confirmed, to an assenting nod. “Right then. So from what we can guess, Nanoha found, or gained, or discovered...” his face twisted briefly as his sense of disbelief warred with the evidence of his eyes, “magic, somehow. This girl, Fate, showed up as a rival.” He frowned. “And it was presumably through whatever magical activities she was getting up to that she got hurt. Possibly the Fate girl, possibly the boy who attacked her. Possibly something else entirely. No way to be sure on that front.” His fists tightened on the table, promising retribution for the culprit if he ever _did_ find out.

“Arisa-chan and Suzuka-chan have been getting very worried over her,” Momoko offered. “She’s been paying far less attention in class recently, zoning out a lot and refusing to explain why. This is probably why. So she’s been doing something, something which has put her at odds with Fate-san. And they must have recently come to some sort of truce, or I imagine Nanoha’s reaction to her showing up at the front door would have been decidedly more pronounced.

“And then this boy showed up and shot at them,” continued Kyouya. “And at you.” His grip tightened on his glass of water, and he sipped at it slowly, obviously holding back some less savoury remarks about the boy.

Momoko pursed her lips thoughtfully. “No,” she disagreed. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not sure if it was intent or just luck, but none of his shots came near me. He was far more focused on the girls. A bigger threat, I suppose. They reacted _very_ fast when I screamed - reflexes almost as good as yours, dear,” she nodded at Shiro. “And then they... transformed. Different clothing, and staff weapons.”

“Ah,” interjected Miyuki. “I wasn’t sure why Nanoha had come to me for staff training - I mean, with her injuries I wasn’t going to say _no_ , but it seemed like a bit of a strange choice. But if she’s using a staff for her magic... yeah, that would make sense.” She grinned. “I hope I helped, then. She didn’t get through many lessons, but I managed to iron out most of the things she was doing wrong. And knowing Nanoha, she’ll keep practicing.”

Shiro groaned. “Why did it have to be Nanoha?” he asked rhetorically, resting his head in his hands. “If it had been you, Miyuki, or Kyouya... I can’t say I’d be happy. But at least you’re both _trained_ for this sort of thing.”

Kyouya’s expression creased with worry to mirror his father’s. “I know... gods, why didn’t she ask for help? Did she think we wouldn’t have given it to her? What do we _do?_ ”

A brief silence fell as all four of the family considered the question. Eventually, Shiro raised his head with a sigh.

“I hate it, but... I’m not sure there _is_ anything active that we can do. We don’t know where Nanoha has gone. We don’t know who the boy was, or where he came from, or where he went. And if we went to the authorities with this... stories of magic? We’d be laughed at. The next move is Nanoha’s. Hopefully... please, gods, hopefully she’ll try to get back in contact with us. In a way that can’t be intercepted by that boy, or any others.”

“Nothing active,” Kyouya queried, “but passive?”

“Passively?” His father scowled. “Passively, we’re going to get ready. Passively, we’re going to go over what we know piece by piece, and prepare. And passively, we are going to make damned sure that the next time somebody attacks this house or a member of this family, they will _regret it_.”

...

Four people in the small room made it crowded. Four nervous people made it more so. Mei Ereignis ran a hand through short, silver-green hair, chewing idly on her lip as she looked around at the rest of her squad. The overnight trip across four worlds had taken its toll - uniforms were slightly rumpled, bags were visible under tired eyes, and the occasional yawn slipped out despite their best efforts. Whatever this place needed reinforcements for so badly, it had better be important.

And Rizu was worried. She hid it well, but Mei had grown up with her half-sister and there were few moods left that she couldn’t read from the older girl. In this case, it was the way she was wringing her hands subtly, twisting her fingers against each other as she stole tiny glances at the redheaded leader of their little group.

So she was fretting. Mei frowned, wrinkling her nose as she pondered what she could do to snap Rizu out of it. Leaning over slightly, she nudged Heidi, earning herself a mild glare from the ash-blonde.

 _’Back me up,’_ she prompted, and leaned forward to catch the attention of the young officer who was tapping his fingers in a nervous rhythm against the metal arm of the chair. The waiting room they had been ushered into was of the type one would expect for a military installation - businesslike, efficient and economical, with no wasted space and little ornamentation. Personally, Mei preferred the descriptors ‘drab’ and ‘boring’, but she was wise enough to keep those sentiments to herself. Usually.

“Hey, Tiida?” She grinned triumphantly as both he and Rizu started at the sound of her voice, breaking the tense atmosphere that had descended. “What’s the delay?” she continued. “C’mon, we’ve been waiting here for, like, hours.”

“It’s been less than fifty minutes, actually,” corrected Heidi, “but I’m also curious as to what’s taking so long.”

Mei grinned unabashedly as Tiida gave her the evil eye for a moment, but he appeared to decide that it wasn’t worth it, and merely sighed. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Admiral Harlaown said that the situation was serious-”

“It had bloody better be serious to warrant us dimension-jumping here through most the night,” Heidi muttered, barely audible. “I’ve got a headache and feel like wet noodles. Not that the concept of night is even applicable when you’re doing a four-dimension jump through Unadministrated Worlds. In the rain.” Beside her, Mei smirked at her teammate’s sulky comments. The sharp edge of the blonde mage’s tongue was a wonderfully entertaining thing to listen to when not directed at her.

Rolling his eyes, Tiida carried on straight over the subvocal grumbling, “She said that things were more serious than they had hoped, which is why we’re here as backup. I’m not sure why the debriefing and planning is taking so long, though. Maybe they have a source of information they’re trying to make the most of? Or they might be calling for more advanced reinforcements.” He cast an appraising eye over the three girls under his command. While he was, in his opinion, justifiably proud of their prowess and the progress they had made in teamwork and initiative in combat, he was well aware that they were a low-level team with no members higher than B-rank.

Mei slanted a glance sideways at Rizu, keeping her face on the young lieutenant. Yes, the shy girl was paying attention to the conversation now, rather than just worrying internally. That was good, now she just had to make sure she stayed that way. And possibly turn the conversation onto slightly lighter territory.

“Eh, we rock. I’m sure we’ll be more than enough to solve this,” she bragged unconcernedly, stretching languidly and folding her arms behind her head. A sly grin spread across her face as she felt all three pairs of eyes in the room on her - Tiida’s expression would be slightly exasperated and disapproving at her relaxed dismissal of the potential dangers of the mission, while Heidi’s would be annoyed at her unprofessional demeanour. Cracking an eyelid open made it worth it, though. Rizu’s mask of worry had faded somewhat, and she was trying hard not to smile at her sister’s brash and cocky confidence.

It had always been like that, as far back as Mei could remember. Rizu would hide, and curl in on herself - she was infuriatingly shy, sometimes - and it would be Mei, two years her junior and usually sporting scraped knees and an assortment of bruises from trying to climb onto the roof again - who would drag her out of her shell by acting with boldness that wasn’t always entirely genuine. It was worth it, though, for the occasional moments when Rizu would show some of the fire she had inherited from their mutual mother. The embarrassed retelling of her first sparring match in the academy over a phone call was something that Mei still giggled about occasionally.

“And this ship!” she grinned, spreading her arms wide. “Awesome, am I right? A Class L starship... heh. So cool!” She paused, gaining a certain reflective air about her. “Never thought I’d be on one of these till I was about twenty, though. Can’t say I saw this coming.”

“I’m not sure any of us saw this coming,” murmured Heidi, settling down somewhat from her annoyance at her irreverent teammate. “And for pity’s sake, act your age. We’re supposed to be professionals.”

Mei grinned widely, chuckling as she leaned back on the uncomfortable seat. “Hey, I’m fifteen. You want maturity, look to Rizu. And I’d find it easier to be professional if something would actually _happen_. I don’t think I’ve ever _been_ as bored as I am right now.”

“Good thing I got here when I did, then,” remarked a dry voice from the door. Mei yelped, almost falling off the chair, and the four cadets scrambled to stand to attention as they turned to face the source of the interruption. It was a young boy, with dark blue hair and a navy blue overcoat serving as his Barrier Jacket. He looked distinctly unimpressed, but nodded courteously enough.

“Chrono Harlaown, Enforcer,” he introduced himself, to raised eyebrows from Heidi. He looked them up and down with the same impassive stare that he’d held them under as they had hurried to stand. “Hmm,” he concluded, “an Air Force training squad.” He frowned. “I must admit, I'd hoped for more experienced mages.”

Tiida looked down at the shorter, younger boy with a carefully schooled expression of diplomacy, and opted merely to salute. “Sir. Lieutenant Tiida Lanster, and squad.”

“Anyway,” Chrono continued, “the debriefing is as finished as it’s going to get. Follow me. We’ll fill you in on what’s going on, and then we’re having a conference on what to do about it.” Not waiting for a reply, he turned and marched off.

“Well, that wasn’t embarrassing at all,” Mei mumbled good-naturedly as they filed out of the waiting room and followed him. “I guess I should watch what I wish for in future.”

Beside her, Rizu stifled a giggle.

...

Lindy Harlaown was much less intimidating in person than her rank of Admiral suggested. Friendly, welcoming and attentive, she bore no resemblance to the strict, stern leader that one might have expected to find holding a rank as high as hers.

Tiida wasn’t fooled. He’d looked up the woman after the first message from her, to find out more about the commander he might be serving under. And what he’d found was a record of a startlingly perceptive and intelligent mind behind the cheerful, amiable persona, and a proven track record of competence. Whatever his concerns about this case, the commanding officer was not one of them.

“Lieutenant Lanster,” she greeted pleasantly. “And your team, I see. Welcome to the Asura.” She smiled sunnily, as if discussing the weather. “Please, do sit down.”

Accepting the invitation, he chose a seat at the long table and sat, the girls seating themselves around him. Chrono had taken a seat further down the table from them, but the young brown-haired officer cadet sitting on her other side was an unknown, as was the blonde boy two seats across from her. The relevant members of the crew, he assumed.

“Very well then,” began Lindy. “To business. First, we had better catch you up on the situation.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her and tapped a finger against its surface. In response, the holographic projector at its centre came to life, displaying a three-dimensional image of two girls, nine or ten in age. They were clad in almost polarised Barrier Jackets - the blonde’s was light, skin-tight and black, whereas the brunette wore a sturdy-looking white dress. Both held pole weapons - a black axe of some sort and a typical Midchildan staff of white and pink.

“Nanoha Takamachi and Fate Testarossa,” Lindy introduced, pointing to the white-clad mage, then the blonde. “The former is a native, the latter we are unsure of, but she may be connected to Precia Testarossa.”

Beside him, Tiida heard Heidi suck in a quick breath. His own brow creased in concern. He knew about Precia - she was one of the more powerful dimensional criminals he knew of. Higher than S-rank, if he remembered correctly. If a monster like that was involved in this case, why was _his_ squad being brought into it? They wouldn’t be able to do much against even an AA-rank, let alone a great mage.

Some of his thought train must have shown on his face, because Lindy smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry,” she assured him, “we can’t be certain that she is involved, and even if she is, she’s shown no sign of getting directly involved as of yet. No, it’s the girls we need to worry about. Both of them are AA-rank, and Takamachi-san in particular has displayed a frighteningly steep learning curve when it comes to magic.”

She tapped the table again, and the image changed to a small blue gem, slowly rotating above the metal surface. “This is an example of the Lost Logia that are the central cause of the situation,” she explained. “Scrya-san here can give you the details if you’re interested, but to summarise, they are extremely powerful and dangerous artefacts of Alhazredian origin. Twenty one of them were scattered across the region of the planet below that Takamachi-san is native to. One was enough to cause the recent dimensional quake. Scrya-san went to try and collect them before any of them caused serious damage, and Takamachi-san sensed the... difficulties that he was having,”

Tiida raised an eyebrow as the blond boy visibly winced. There appeared to be a story there, if he was any judge. But he didn’t linger on the matter, as Lindy continued “... and went to help. She advanced quickly in magic - though Scrya-san assures me that he cautioned her against revealing the existence of magic to anyone else - and has been instrumental in sealing six or seven of the Lost Logia so far.” She frowned. “Which I suppose is one small blessing, though I can’t say I’m terribly happy that she took them with her.”

“Um... if I may?” Tiida asked. Lindy paused in her explanation, giving him her attention. While aware that interrupting a briefing was less than professional, something had been niggling at him throughout the conversation so far, and he had to ask. “I’m not sure if I’m right, but... this seems familiar somehow. I can’t pin down where from, but I swear...” He frowned, racking his mind for the fleeting memory.

The green-haired woman nodded, and he thought he caught a glitter of approval in her eyes. “I would imagine you’re thinking about Gil Graham,” she said. “And yes, the stories bear a certain similarities. Both prodigies, both discovered magic from an injured mage during an incident - and from the same world, even! Unfortunately, their stories diverge rather sharply after that.”

“I was wondering how she wound up on the opposite side, yes,” he admitted. Lindy grimaced, and sat back, glancing at the blue-haired boy across the table from her. Recognising his cue, Chrono cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Yes,” he started, “from what we’ve been able to gather, Testarossa-san has been making a concerted effort to reach out to her. In combination with what Scrya describes as a short-term estrangement from her friends over her refusal to explain her odd behaviour as a result of tackling the Jewel Seeds during her free time, she-”

He was interrupted as the blond boy - Scrya - shot him a venomous glare and cleared his throat loudly and pointedly. Returning the caustic look, Chrono gritted his teeth and amended his statement, “-fine, yes, it was also due to an utter wreck of a first engagement on my part, as we were operating on false assumptions and accidentally came across far more antagonistic than we meant to. _Anyway_ , due to a combination of factors, she seems to have joined up with Testarossa-san, who I am sure is currently busy poisoning her against the TSAB and affirming Takamachi-san’s decision to help her. We estimate that between the two of them, they probably have a dozen or more Jewel Seeds between them. That’s more than half of the entire number, and is easily enough to rip apart Dimensional Space with quakes on a level not seen since the fall of Ancient Belka.”

Tiida blanched. Rizu let out a soft whimper, and Heidi sucked in a breath. Even Mei, usually irrepressible, went pale at the thought of that much destruction. After a moment of silence, Tiida was the first to find his voice again.

“... s-so... what good are we, with this much at stake? I mean...”

Chrono nodded tiredly, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes tightly. “I know. Believe me, I know,” he agreed. “I don’t think anyone here feels confident that they’re good enough to be involved in this, frankly. I know I don’t. But this is all we have until the nearest high-ranking team is reassigned here - they were following up leads on the theft of the Shroud of the Saint King, but this is more important. Still, it’ll take time for them to get here, so we’ll have to do the best we can until then.”

He sighed at their dubious expressions. “Look, dire as it seems, we’re not entirely outmatched here. I’m AAA-rank, and while Scrya is only A-rank overall, his defensive skills are at least a rank above that, possibly two. With both of us engaging the targets and you four providing backup and support, we stand a good chance. Our aims are to prevent them from capturing any more Lost Logia than they already have, and ideally capturing them and retrieving the ones they currently possess. Clear?”

Tiida glanced sideways just fast enough to catch his squad’s reactions. Faced with the most intimidating case of their lives, their emotions were clear in their expressions. Rizu was frightened at the potential for destruction and the power of their opponents. Heidi was showing cracks in the normally flawless mask of determination and ice-cold composure she normally wore. Mei’s face displayed a strange mixture between confidence and uncertainty as she recognised she was out of her depth.

But despite their reservations and the terrifying knowledge of what would be risked by failure, not one of them hesitated to agree.

Looking sidelong at his team as he voiced his own agreement, Tiida couldn’t have felt more proud of them in that moment.

“Alright then,” said Chrono, and the red-headed lieutenant thought he caught a trace of approval in his voice. “Get yourselves as familiar with the information we have as you can. We’ll start first thing tomorrow morning.” He grimaced, and nodded resignedly to his mother. “And yes, I know,” he forestalled her, to a tiny smile. “I have an apology to make.”

...

Closing time. Momoko stretched as she panned her gaze around the shop, rolling her shoulders back and yawning as she felt some of the tension built up over the day flow out of her tired muscles. Most people wouldn’t think that standing behind a till taking people’s money all day was tiring, but most people had never actually tried _doing_ it.

Counting out the last of the day’s earnings from the till, she nodded to herself tiredly. Worry about Nanoha had kept her up for most of the night, and she was starting to feel the cost of it now. The worry hadn’t diminished, either. It was her little girl out there, her youngest daughter that might be being chased by magic users right now, with her family helpless to intervene. Even if she seemed to have made a friend in the blonde girl, Fate, it was enough to make a mother’s heart twist with dread.

The door chimed as it opened, distracting her from her brooding. Glancing up to see who would be coming in so late - and after she put the closed sign out, to boot - she froze.

Her view of the combat the previous evening hadn’t been the best. But it had been enough for her to get a relatively good, if distant, look at the faces of all three combatants. And years of working in a cafe had given her an excellent memory for faces. The combination of the two meant that she knew the boy who stepped into her shop, and knew him instantly, no matter that he wore some sort of formal uniform instead of the dark jacket he had been wearing last time she laid eyes on him.

Without taking her eyes from him, she set down the bag of change she had been counting out with a faint clink. He returned her gaze levelly. Calm, and not particularly hostile. Spreading his hands to show that he was unarmed, he dipped a very slight bow.

She was the first to break the silence that fell between them. “Good evening,” she stated, words falling precisely into place with the absolute minimum amount of politeness that was required. “Can I help you?”

Her eyes caught the faint flinch at her tone, which suggested strongly that the only help she was willing to give him was some enthusiastic aid in leaving the premises at speed. Internally, she gave a grim smile. It probably wasn’t entirely fair to take out her ire on him directly - the boy couldn’t be much more than thirteen or fourteen, and was probably working for someone else - but he had driven her baby away from her home, and that meant Momoko wasn’t interested in notions of ‘fair’ right now.

Nonetheless, he recovered admirably well, looking up at her with a youthful determination that she recognised as the same emotion that kindled in Kyouya’s eyes, or Miyuki’s, or even Nanoha’s, when they were set on doing something. Inwardly she tensed. She was no fighter, lot like her husband, but nor was she entirely defenceless. And she was standing behind a counter with her hands out of sight, and there were knives for cutting slices of cake, and if he made a single aggressive move in here after the debacle last night she was going to...

“I apologise,” he said, and Momoko’s breath caught in her throat. She said nothing, still suspicious, and merely kept an outwardly neutral gaze on him as she waited for him to elaborate.

“My name is Chrono Harlaown,” he explained, “an Enforcer under the employ of the Time-Space Administration Bureau. Your daughter has become involved in a situation that may be linked to a known and wanted criminal, and which poses a threat to the safety of the entire region. We arrived here only recently, and were operating with very little information until late yesterday evening.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Would this be before or after you attacked my home?” she enquired softly, with a razor edge hidden in her tone. He bowed his head apologetically, though, and she raised an eyebrow as she waited to hear his excuse. There was something subtly wrong with his voice; a slight imperfection between the movement of his lips and the arrival of the words she was hearing, which was putting her even further on edge.

“After,” he assured her, “it was the fallout from that encounter that made us realise that our initial assumptions had been wrong. Had I known that your daughter was a native, I swear I wouldn’t have handled things as I did. I made a mistake, and I apologise profusely for any trouble I may have caused you.”

Momoko frowned. He seemed sincere, or as sincere as any teenager could be while admitting fault on their own part. However... “Native?” she queried. “What do you mean by that?”

He nodded with a little more confidence, apparently having expected that question. “There are other worlds and other dimensions,” he explained, “It’s complicated, but essentially the TSAB polices the dimensions and makes sure that technology from ancient civilisations doesn’t do irreparable damage, and that mages don’t abuse their powers. We’re stretched to our limit given the amount of territory we try to regulate, but we do our best. Your daughter is a latent mage who has advanced incredibly quickly since she was introduced to magic. I’m afraid that her skill, along with certain other factors, led me to believe that she was from off-world and was engaged in attempting to gather and possibly misuse a set of very powerful, dangerous artefacts that have been scattered across the region due to an accident.”

Momoko nodded, accepting this. It sounded ridiculous, but she wasn’t terribly concerned with how believable it sounded right now. For a start, she’d been shocked enough over the past twenty four hours that she was half-prepared to believe anything. For another, she had more pressing matters to focus on.

“Introduced to magic,” she repeated. “Introduced by who?”

“A mage her own age - a talented archaeologist prodigy who discovered the artefacts in question. When the ship they were being transported on suffered an accident that left them scattered here, he came in personally to try and get them back to prevent them from doing any damage. He wasn’t powerful enough to do so on his own, but your daughter was able to sense his distress and come to his aid. She volunteered to help him gather them and render them inert and safe, and they have been doing so with remarkable success.”

“Which doesn’t explain this criminal you mentioned.”

He moved a little further into the shop, clearly uncomfortable. His uniform looked very formal, and she got the impression that he didn’t have cause to wear it very often. He fidgeted slightly in the starched cloth, probably not even aware he was doing it, and sat down on one of the benches tiredly.

“Yes,” he replied, “that’s the problem. Apparently, there’s another mage - this one definitely from off-world - operating in the area. Also looking for the artefacts. Also extremely talented. She and your daughter have clashed several times, from what we can tell, but recent events have pushed them into full cooperation, and your daughter seems to have moved over to supporting her directly.” He flushed slightly, gaze dropping in guilt as his hands clenched and unclenched nervously. “I was probably a factor in that last one, I’m sorry to say. Not the only factor, but a contributing one. The issue is that there’s a good chance the other girl is working for an extremely powerful and brilliant dimensional criminal, and we have no idea _what_ she wants with the Jewel Seeds. The fights over them have already come extremely close to causing a disaster, so we were... not as diplomatic as we might have otherwise been.” He grimaced, evidently realising how that must have sounded. “That is... what I meant to say was that we-”

Whatever the boy had been intending to say next, however, was to be left a mystery. Because at that moment, the door to the cafe’s kitchen opened with its customary slight creak, and Kyouya’s voice sounded in the tense atmosphere.

“Mother? We’re almost out of flour, so we should probably- _you_.”

Momoko turned to her son, eyes widening as she realised what the anger in his voice at that last word meant, but she was too late. Before she could get a word out, he was halfway across the room in a furious attack on the boy whose description he recognised as the one who had attacked his home.

Chrono’s eyes widened as the boy _moved_ , far faster than an unaugmented human should be able to. He threw himself out of the way as a fist slammed viciously into the spot his stomach had occupied a second ago - a blow meant to wind him, he was relieved to see, not to kill. Snapping out a hand, he flashed through the calculations for a Covert Bind as quickly as he was able to force himself to, and a near-invisible set of blue wires snapped into existence, pinning the angry teenager’s arms to his sides and preventing him from moving. Chrono allowed himself a second to catch his breath, and straightened.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised levelly, “but I can’t let you do that. This is a very useful bind that Lotte taught me; trading strength for subtlety. It wouldn't hold someone who's expecting this, but-”

He was rudely interrupted as Kyouya pulsed, seeming to briefly become more _real_ , somehow, than his surroundings. The bind shattered like glass, and the boy was in his face with unnerving speed, fist scything in to deliver a punishing blow to the solar plexus that would...

“Argh!”

Chrono staggered back from the sheer _force_ behind the blow, fervently glad that it had been spread out instead of hitting him as intended. He was unharmed, though, and levelled a disapproving frown at the boy reeling back from the backlash, cradling what could well be a sprained wrist with gritted teeth. His other hand lashed out at Chrono’s face, but the younger boy ducked out of the way with snake-like reflexes, lashing up to catch Kyouya’s wrist in a grip of iron.

“No,” he said flatly. “Of course I was wearing a low level barrier jacket. I'm not a fool.” He blocked an attempt to wrench free, sliding up the arm to hyper-extend the joint and force the boy to his knees, and eyed his prisoner, wondering what to do next.

Abruptly, he became aware that the temperature of the room seemed to have dropped by several degrees. An almost physical weight settled on him from the side, a glare so frosty that it felt like a blow to the head.

Oh. Right. The mother. Loosening his grip enough that he wasn’t hurting the boy anymore, he nonetheless maintained the hold and kept him in his line of sight as he turned to see. He almost wished he hadn’t.

Momoko’s eyes - so very like her daughters in colour - were like frozen chips of ice as she pinned him with her gaze. Her expression wasn’t furious, and no dramatic extremes of emotion showed in her stance as she slowly approached the pair, but she was nonetheless an intimidating sight. Somehow, the utter lack of any release for the fury he could sense bottled up inside only added to the menacing aura she wore. He could almost feel the pressure.

When she spoke, her words were clipped, terse and chilled to the point of freezing. “Your apology is accepted, young man,” she informed him, “and your explanation noted. I understand why you did what you did, if that salves your conscience.” Chrono opened his mouth to speak, but the wordless flash of ire from her eyes closed his mouth before he could get a sound out. “However,” she continued, “you are _not_ forgiven. Or forgotten. And I while it appears,” a meaningful glance at her son, who Chrono hastily released, “that there is no way I can stop you from doing as you wish, I would very much prefer it if I did not see you on my premises again. Either of them. Is that clear?”

Chrono opened his mouth to protest, but paused. Was there really any point? He considered. No. No, there wasn’t. Not really. Schooling his expression, he dipped a short bow to the woman, keeping a wary eye on her son. The boy seemed to grudgingly acknowledge he was beaten, and held off from attacking again, and to Chrono’s surprise the woman returned his bow with a short nod. Her expression was still hostile, though, and he got the feeling that her patience was running out.

“Of course,” he said, “I understand, and thank you for hearing me out. Once again, my sincerest apologies. I will do my best not to trouble you again, and we will do our best to resolve the situation with your daughter peacefully and diplomatically.” Her eyes softened by a fraction, and she nodded again. Pointedly, and towards the door, but a nod nonetheless. Not wishing to push things any further, Chrono retreated.

Once safely outside the building, he frowned. That feeling in there... had it just been the atmosphere. Or had it been...

He wasn’t certain, but it had felt awfully like the sensation he had felt once or twice around strong mages when they got angry. Not a directed spell, just uncontrolled mana leaking into their surroundings and reacting with the Linker Cores of other people sensitive to it. An abrupt suspicion gripped him, and he carefully brought out S2U, directing it towards the still-lit cafe from the safety of the shadows.

“Scan the interior,” he murmured quietly, “as thoroughly as you can. Leave nothing out.”

[Acknowledged,] intoned the Storage Device. It wasn’t really intelligent enough to understand much more than limited orders, but it served its purpose in helping him cast. [Reconnaissance.] A pulse of blue was all that signified the scan as information started to flow across the small, discreet holographic window Chrono opened to view the results. As the readings poured in, he nodded without much surprise at the presence of an E-rank core in the boy - weak by Midchildan standards and obviously mostly unused, but it went some way towards explaining how he had moved so fast. Though it still didn’t explain where he had learnt to access his Linker Core like that - even if it was crude, this world wasn’t meant to have _any_ magic-users on it. The more intensive probing of the woman started to return results, cutting off his musing, and he scanned the lines of Midchildan text.

And promptly almost choked at what they revealed. This was ridiculous! How could-

Across the street, the door was yanked open sharply. Chrono’s head snapped up as Momoko leaned out, directing an ice-cold, vicious glare straight towards him; regardless of the shadowy corner he was standing it that hid his form. Surely she hadn’t somehow sensed his scan? That was...

Realising that her glare was, if anything, only getting _more_ annoyed, Chrono decided to retreat again. Back to the ship, this time, to review and report on his findings. His intentions in coming here had been... if not actually achieved, then at least concluded. There was nothing more to be had here.

And besides, Lindy would want to know about this. Of that, he had no doubt.

...

Alone for the moment, Nanoha wandered through the antique corridors of the Garden of Time. Her talk with Fate last night had been nice, but the blonde had eventually been dragged away by a worried Linith to get the wound on her side looked at. Having had quite enough of hospitals and medical bays, Nanoha had elected to go to bed early, and Linith had shown her to a luxurious, if somewhat dusty, guest bedroom.

A night of sleep had left her a little less exhausted, and now she explored the strange new place she resided in. The murals still hurt her eyes to look at, and all that she had gained from staring at them and trying to figure out the pattern was a headache, and a strange feeling that reminded her of home. Maybe it was the way the loops and swirls looked a little like the pattern of the curtains in the kitchen, if she turned her head and squinted a little.

Regardless, even Nanoha’s stubbornness had its limits. It had not taken long for her to give up on staring at the patterns, and shortly after that she had started to deliberately avoid letting them catch her gaze. Now, she found herself in front of a strangely familiar painting of a seascape that had been hung on one of the walls - one of Linith’s touches, no doubt. It looked oddly familiar. In fact, it reminded her of one that her mother had at home. Perhaps Linith had bought it from Earth? It looked a little like it might be of a place near her home, though she wasn’t sure on that point. She would have to ask her mama about it later and get her opinion on...

... except she couldn’t ask her mama, could she? Mama was at home. On Earth. And the TSAB knew where that was now. They’d already attacked her there once, and if she went back...

... if she ever went back...

... she couldn’t go back. Blue eyes stared, unseeing, at the floral arrangement in front of her as the shock that had been delayed by the tumultuous events that she had been distracted by. It had lurked unnoticed while she had followed Fate back to the Garden of Time, as she had met Linith and been taken to see Precia. The numb sense of disbelief had lingered even through the night, as she struggled to take in the new bed she slept in and the unfamiliar ceiling she awoke to. Now, the reminder of home stripped away that numbness and exposed the raw wound underneath.

Nerveless fingers trembled as her knees gave out, and Nanoha collapsed into a kneeling position. Her wide eyes kept staring forward, even as her breathing became shallow and fast and she began to shake.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that. Time seemed to blur, and it might have been seconds or hours. All she was aware of was the echoing refrain in her head - that she couldn’t go home, couldn’t go back to her family until this was past. And... even then, would the TSAB leave? Or would they stay, watching her house and waiting for her to venture back? Did they do that sort of thing? She didn’t know, but the sick feeling of dread coiled in her stomach at the thought.

Her memory flashed back through the years. It was just like that time again, when her father had been in hospital and near death. Alone, separated from her parents, from her family. Except that time, the rift had closed. Her father had recovered and come home, her mama and siblings had returned to their normal lives. That time, she had been lucky.

Would the same happen twice?

“Nanoha-chan? Where are y- Nanoha-chan!” Footsteps hurried towards her down the corridor, and Linith’s concerned face came into view as she knelt down and gently cupped the unresisting girl’s face in her hands. Turning the girl to face her, she looked at her new charge in concern. “Nanoha-chan, what’s wrong?”

“I...” the young mage choked out, “I... I can’t go back... I...”

Linith’s confusion cleared, and an expression of utmost sympathy replaced it. Wordlessly, solemnly, she drew the girl into a warm, soft embrace and stroked her hair, shushing her quietly and offering what comfort she could.

It was enough to break the fragile remnants of the dam on Nanoha’s feelings. Ravaged by the realisation of her plight and cradled in a maternal embrace, the tears began to flow from eyes that had so far stayed dry and wracking sobs began to shake her slight frame even more.

Burying her head in the crook of Linith’s neck, Nanoha wrapped her arms around the cat-familiar and began to cry.

“Shhh... shhh, there now, darling, it’s okay...” Linith soothed, stroking her gently. “I know, I know. Poor thing, you must be devastated. Come on now... come on, sit up a little.” Coaxing Nanoha up enough to hook an arm under her legs, Linith gathered the girl up and stood, lifting her without apparent effort. “There, now. What do you say to me taking you to have some hot coco. With marshmallows and cream. And you can tell me all about your home, and what you’re going to show Fate-chan when this is all cleared up.”

Nanoha blinked away tears, still sniffing. The sobs had stopped for the most part, though. “C-cleared up?” she asked indistinctly.

“Yes, when this is all over and the TSAB have gone away, and Alicia-chan is better again.” Turning, Linith began to carry Nanoha away from the site of her breakdown, keeping up a constant stream of soothing chatter to distract the girl and keep her focused on the sound of a friendly voice. “Fate-chan has always been a curious little girl, and she likes you a lot, so I’m sure she’ll want to be shown all of your favourite places. Do you think your parents will like her?”

“Um...” Another sniff, but fainter this time, as the voices receded down the corridor. One was calm, warm and maternal, and the other was hitched and watery. But slowly firming, the ragged breathing evening out and a note of reassurance returning to its owner. “I think Miyuki-neesan has already met her... and mama would like her, I think...”

“Will like her, dear. I’m sure that this business won’t take long to blow over, and then everything will be just fine.”

“Promise?” The question was quiet, and a little desperate. If Linith caught the latter tone, she made no comment on it, her reply as confident and reassuring as ever.

“I promise.”

...

Pale fingers played over holographic keys, and the hovering images shifted and swirled as new information was called to be displayed. Despite the laser focus she trained on the sea of information around her, a hint of a smile settled on Precia’s lips. This, more than anything, was her element. Research, theorising, _science_. Understand the world, and one could become its master. With a complete understanding of the universe, little was beyond a scientist’s ability if they had the resources to attempt it.

And she had the resources. For perhaps the twentieth time, Precia surveyed the thirteen glittering gems that hovered in their containment field, her smile escalating to a full smirk. Yes, the Takamachi girl had been quite a find. Fate had outdone herself with that one. And to think, she had been getting annoyed at the girl’s softness. Evidently, her patience had paid off.

But no. Congratulating herself could come later, if at all. For now, she had a mystery to solve. The records from both girls’ Devices - Takamachi had surrendered hers for maintenance and data analysis with only a little prompting - clearly showed that some form of reanimation had occurred when the Jewel Seed had taken a corpse as its host. Incomplete, of course, and with more than a few undesirable side effects. But anything she could work out about how it had occurred was one more piece of information she could supply to Alhazred, upon reaching the land of wonders. One more thing that they could use, and build on, to give her daughter back to her.

Which brought her back to research. She pursed her lips, skimming over the document. It was a copy of some decrepit old tome originating from the Infinity Library, but what it detailed was fascinating. Jewel Seeds, it seemed, were not the only Lost Logia capable of reanimation. Though this form came with downsides even worse than those observed. Still, the effects...

“Hmm,” she mused, tapping polished fingernails idly against the arm of her throne. “Some sort of construct matrix to revive the body, then. Workable in theory, but non-viable in practice. So... how did they overcome the limitations, I wonder?” Violet eyes narrowed, and she turned to another screen, fingers flying over the keyboard as she typed several more lines of code. Pausing, she looked over what she had so far - the bones of a simulation that should allow her to test a few theories she had developed on the mechanics of the reanimation. She was halfway through checking it for any inadvertent errors when the tentative knock came on the door of the chamber.

“Come in,” she murmured absently, twitching a finger to open the doors. A few key-taps corrected a term here, a condition there. Firming up the basis of the simulation to bear up under the unconventional situations she would be modelling would take time, but it was a fascinating challenge.

“Ah... Testarossa-san? You... said to come and see you?”

Precia blinked, looking up from the screen. Her eyes ached slightly - how long had she been working? Shaking the errant thought away, she concentrated on the source of the interruption.

It was Takamachi. And Linith, curiously enough. The girl stood close to her, almost clinging to the familiar, and Precia could see a small hand clenching a fistful of Linith’s skirt tightly. For comfort? What had happened that she was not aware of?

“Precia-sama?” Linith prompted. “You asked Nanoha-chan to come and see you once she had recovered. I’m afraid she was rather upset earlier, but I think she’s feeling better now. Nanoha-chan?”

She ruffled the girl’s hair, and received a slightly trembly smile in return. “I feel a lot better, thank you,” agreed the young mage. “The coco helped a lot. Thank you for it.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” smiled Linith, before pushing her gently towards Precia. “Now go on, I’m sure Precia-sama would like to talk to you.”

Nanoha nodded, and approached the older woman. Precia ran an assessing eye over her - she seemed quieter than when she had arrived. Not necessarily more timid, but it was clear that she was still recovering from the breakdown Linith had mentioned. Not to mention she was probably feeling lost and out of place - indeed, it had probably been delayed shock catching up to her that had triggered the event in the first place.

“Takamachi-san,” she greeted warmly, dismissing the screens. If the girl was still off-balance, now was an excellent time to reaffirm her positive first impression. “I’m sorry to hear about your troubles, and I hope you feel better soon. Ah, but I said I was going to tell you more about the TSAB, didn’t I? And also, I believe, that I would show you my dear Alicia.”

A tentative nod showed assent, and Precia rose from her throne, dismissing the displays around her with a wave of her hand. “Very well, then,” she said, offering a slender hand. “Shall we?”

Nanoha stared at her for a second in surprise, but obediently took the offered hand, shivering slightly. This woman... she was a mother, definitely, and Nanoha had seen firsthand how she grieved over her lost daughter, and could only imagine how she must cherish the one she had left. But her hand was cold, and she didn’t smell of bread and flour and baking and _mama_ like her own mother did. A pang of homesickness ricocheted up into her throat, and she bit back a sob.

The chamber that Precia led her into was smaller than the one that Nanoha was already calling the ‘throne room’ in her head. And in the centre of it...

“Oh...” she whispered. “She really does look like Fate-chan.”

And she did. The girl was smaller than the blonde mage Nanoha had fought against and beside, but apart from that the resemblance was almost perfect. She floated in a faintly luminescent turquoise liquid, her hair fanning out in the weightless environment, disturbed only by the occasional bubble. She looked incredibly small, and Nanoha could easily see why Fate had fought so hard, so furiously in her defence. She looked at Precia, whose eyes were riveted on the girl with laser intensity. Nanoha could sense that this was an important moment. What she said here, how she reacted, would likely play a major role in deciding Precia’s opinion of her. But thinking too hard about what to say, calculating her words to try and tell the woman what she wanted to hear, seemed somehow wrong. Her daughter meant too much to her to cheat like that, it wouldn’t be _right_. So Nanoha followed her mother’s advice, trusted her heart, and said the first thing that came to mind.

“... she’s beautiful,” she whispered. Softly, almost reverently, as if careful to avoid waking the girl. It was unnecessary, of course; the girl’s sleep was far deeper than that of any living person. But it seemed to strike a tone in Precia, who nodded quietly. A wistful smile crossed her face, tinged with a heartbreak that Nanoha shied away from trying to imagine after only one attempt. There was too much pain there, too much grief.

“She is, isn’t she?” Precia agreed, and for a moment all of her imperious grace, poise and ice-cold beauty were gone. She was a grieving woman, remembering the light of her life that had been cruelly taken from her, and it was all that Nanoha could do not to reach out and hug her. “She would have been an adult by now, you know,” she murmured, keeping to the same soft tones as Nanoha had used. “Your mother’s age. Had the accident not happened, I might even have had grandchildren your age by now.” If her faint smile was an attempt to mask her emotions, it failed.

“You don't look that old!” Nanoha blurted out, stunned at the implication of the woman’s age. Precia laughed softly, and sounded genuinely flattered.

“Thank you for the compliment,” she said, amused, “but I assure you I am telling the truth.” A thought occurred to her, and her face fell again. “I should have been able to watch her grow up... taught her magic as she grew... perhaps seen her get married and have children, even. But... no. Chance was not that kind, was it?” Her eyes clouded, and Nanoha swallowed hard. Adults weren’t _supposed_ to sound like they were on the brink of tears. They were the ones who comforted children, not the other way around!

Nonetheless, she reached out, slowly and carefully, and slipped her hand into Precia’s. The woman barely reacted, but a slight tightening of her fingers told Nanoha that she had noticed.

“She will get better,” Nanoha promised, and she was surprised at how firm her own voice sounded. “I give my word, Fate-chan and I will find the rest of the Jewel Seeds and bring them back! And do anything else you need us to do.” She looked at the little girl again, so fragile and peaceful. “She deserves it,” she added, voice a little shaky. “And so do you.”

There was a timeless moment, a pause between heartbeats as Precia gathered herself. And then the mask was back in place, the grace and calm composure restored. Nanoha could sort of understand why. If it helped her cope, day-to-day, with her daughter being like this...

“Thank you,” said Precia, and just the faintest hint of real, genuine gratitude slipped around the corners of the mask as she said it. “I’m glad to know that Alicia has such brave and fervent protectors. You do your family proud, child, I have no doubt about it.”

Nanoha beamed, blushing slightly at the praise. “I couldn’t possibly refuse to help, now that I know what’s at stake, Testarossa-san. Um... you said you’d tell me about the TSAB, too?”

“Indeed, my dear. Thank you for the reminder. Fate-chan has heard all of this before, so I think we shall not bore her with another repetition. Instead, would you like to have another cup of coco with me? And while we drink, I will tell you about the Bureau, the tactics they will use against you... and a few of the things they would undoubtedly rather you not know. You will have to be strong, my dear, because they will try to turn you to their side and convince you that saving Alicia is wrong. Can you stay true to your promise?”

“I can! I _will!_ ”

Precia smiled, thin and amused and razor-sharp, letting out a pleasant chuckle. “Then I am certain Alicia has nothing to fear. Very well then, let us find a better setting for discussion. And also ask Linith to get us some more coco.”

And with one last lingering look at the girl floating in the tank behind them, Nanoha followed her back out into the throne room. Nobody, she promised herself internally, was going to stand in the way of the sweet little girl’s cure.

And if anyone did, it wouldn’t be for very long.

...


	7. Chapter Six

Deep within the winding corridors and vaulted halls of Garden of Time, the flashes and sparks of magical combat echoed from the walls.

The room was impressively large - more the kind of place one would expect to see in a cathedral than a secret refuge floating in the Dimensional Sea. The walls of black metal - or was it some form of stone, like obsidian? It was impossible to tell, though they certainly felt smooth and hard to the touch as they arched up towards the high, vaulted ceiling. There was plenty of space to run or fly within the room - not as much as being truly outdoors, but enough to give a convincing simulation of it. Which was why Nanoha was there, late in the afternoon of the next day, with Raising Heart clutched in both hands and her Barrier Jacket enveloping her.

She wasn’t the only one there, though. The automaton was blocky and solid, crafted from burnished metal that had seen better days, going by the dents, scratches and burns that marked it in places. It hummed as it moved, a humanoid torso hovering in the air, darting from side to side, forward and back, up and down. The arms were angular, thin and inhumanly long, hanging down past the bottom of its torso. They ended in crude claw-like hands, with palms the size of a shovel and blunt fingers like pencils that could slap aside spells and fire basic ones back. A long cable – a newer installation - trailed down from its underside to the floor, supplying the thing with the power and instructions it needed to function.

On the smooth plate that covered the front of its head, someone had painted a frowny face. It was pink, and appeared to be sticking its tongue out.

The expression was returned in kind by the brown-haired girl who stood across from it, panting and glaring at the demonic thing. Hefting her Device again - and when had Raising Heart become so heavy? - she focused her magic and fired off another six bullets of pink light. She had to be careful, using Raising Heart at the moment. The loyal Device was functional again, but its repairs still weren’t complete. While it could handle low-level spells, Nanoha was well aware that she couldn’t risk putting much power through it. It was yet another artificial restriction making this fight more difficult than it had any right to be.

[Divine Shooter,] intoned the staff, currently in shooting mode. The boost that this configuration gave to the fine control she had over her shots was slight, but after five and a half gruelling hours of shooting at the damned thing, she was willing to take any help she could get, however small. The shots flashed out, separating into a wide dispersion as they moved towards her mechanical opponent.

It wasn’t that easy, of course. No, she was well accustomed with the tricks of the thing by now. Its lanky arms rattled up, the index fingers glowing a faint blue as it responded with two shots of its own. Even as it did so, it moved with uncanny speed, dropping like a stone to avoid the shots that curved in from the left and turning the motion into a lightning-fast sideways motion that spiralled down towards the floor, heading right and dragging the power cord with it.

Nanoha ground her teeth. The most _annoying_ thing about this machine was the way that it did almost nothing in straight lines. It wouldn’t dodge left; it would curve backwards and rise slightly as it drifted away from a threat to the right. The shots it fired didn’t approach on nice, sensible vectors; they curved and dipped unpredictably, striking like hammers from unexpected directions. Nowhere in its movements was anything approaching a nice, predictable pattern that she could pin down.

It was _infuriating_.

She activated her Flier Fins as the retaliatory shots approached her, and leapt upwards out of their way. That was one of the first things she had learned, in her training against this thing. Blocking its attacks, while possible, only resulted in it firing more and more shots, wearing down her magic by forcing her to block or shield against all of them. And she could only block from so many angles at once. No, dodging was the better option unless she had no other choice - her reserves were large, but not infinite, and simply avoiding spells rather than parrying them conserved precious energy.

Energy that she needed for other purposes.

The enemy shots homed in on her, and she pulled back two of her own to intercept them, a flash from behind her lighting up the room briefly as they detonated. She paid it no heed, pulling one of her remaining bullets into a tight orbit around her opponent. Unable to dodge at such a close range, it threw up a glowing, spherical shield around itself, and her bullet hammered against it in a staccato pattern of impacts until its structure was disrupted and it dispersed.

But while its assault had been fruitless, it had given her time to move the last three into position for the second stage of her plan, and start gathering magic for the third. And the automaton had to drop its barrier in order to retaliate. The shield flickered and vanished, and Nanoha played her ace.

It hadn’t been easy. Layering, Fate had called it. Hiding a spell within another spell, such that it would activate on a preset trigger. But while it took far more concentration and control than ordinary spells, Nanoha had seen first-hand how effective it could be. She still remembered her first fight with the blonde, how the girl’s shots, instead of dispersing, had shattered into motes of light against her shield... only to rush at her and explode with the force of a concussion grenade, a trap hidden inside an attack. It had caught her utterly off-guard, and left her blinded and disoriented for Fate to conclusively put her out of the fight.

Except that she wasn’t hiding an attack inside the Divine Shooter bullets that she had spent precious seconds preparing, dodging frantically and evading her mechanical opponent while she crunched through the maths. Not a conventional one, anyway. Not one, but two sources of inspiration had prompted this strategy, and as the drone lifted its pipe-like arms in readiness for another barrage of shots, she pulsed her magic to activate the second layer of magic in the three shots that hovered in a triangular arrangement some distance behind it.

Pink lines joined them, and a barrier flickered into existence in the area enclosed by the three points. It wouldn’t hold for long, and it wasn’t very strong. But she didn’t need either. A triumphant grin spreading across her face, she summoned the barrier to her, already pulling her Device back for the final blow.

“Divine!” she cried out, as the mobile barrier smashed into the drone, disrupting its attack and forcing it towards her, the speed and violence of the movement rendering unable to escape or interfere, “BUSTER!”

The drone’s torso was perhaps three metres from the tip of her Device as she fired, and the beam of cherry-blossom destruction engulfed it whole.

As the light cleared, and the smoking, deactivated body of the drone dropped to the floor with a clunk, Nanoha hovered down to the floor and released her flight spell, panting heavily. That had taken more out of her than she cared to admit, if she were to be honest. One bout with the drone wasn’t hard to win, but twenty or thirty in a row _was_. It didn’t get tired. She did.

Which she supposed was the point, really. Linith was working on her stamina, as well as her skills. The latter, she’d certainly been advancing in rapidly over the past day or two, according to Fate. As the ringing in her ears and harsh sound of her breathing began to recede, however, it wasn’t Linith’s enthusiastic cheering she heard, nor Fate’s advice and encouragement.

It was a slow, measured clap. Nanoha swivelled to see the source, and found herself pinned once again under the violet gaze of Precia Testarossa. The woman’s gaze was no less daunting, and Nanoha felt herself swallow nervously. But Precia was smiling thinly, and her applause appeared genuine.

“Well _done_ , my dear,” she said by way of greeting. “I am most impressed. Layering already? And offensive use of a barrier... very ingenious. You will go far.”

Nanoha blushed, ducking her head modestly. “It wasn’t my idea,” she admitted. “I saw Yuuno-kun use it against...” she trailed off, embarrassed smile fading into a morose expression, and scuffed her foot against the ground.

Precia paused for a moment, considering possible responses to the sudden descent into melancholy. It wasn’t too hard to decipher the cause, of course - separated from her family in such a violent fashion, it would be odder if she wasn’t taking it hard. The betrayal by her friend wouldn’t be helping that, either. But how to react?

Carefully, she laid a hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “I truly appreciate what you are doing for us, Takamachi-san,” she said gently. “You do your family proud, I have no doubt. I am so very sorry for the trouble you have taken upon yourself to aid us when you bore no obligation to.”

“No, I’m... fine,” Nanoha replied. She didn’t look up. “And it’s good, what I’m doing. Helping you, and saving Alicia-chan, and fighting alongside Fate-chan. It’s something I _want_ to do. I just...” she looked up with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s just hard. You know?”

“I do,” the woman nodded gravely, “and it speaks volumes of your character that you persist regardless. But for now, I suggest you rest. It will only take a few more days to finish repairing your Devices to full functionality, and then you will be able to return to your planet and resume the search. The faster we obtain the Jewel Seeds and revive Alicia, the faster the TSAB’s interest in this planet will cease. Once the Lost Logia here are gone, they will have no reason to remain, and you should be able to go back home.”

Nanoha nodded quietly, and Precia swept away, back to the throne room. The Takamachi girl, it seemed, was coming along nicely, and she trusted Linith to handle her training at this stage. Precia herself could better spend her time in research, only rarely dropping in to observe her new ally in person.

Nanoha fidgeted as the woman left, still staring at the floor in distraction. After a few seconds of silence, Linith stepped in to divert her train of thought from the unhappy direction it had taken.

“Nanoha-chan!” she beamed, giving the girl a quick hug. “That was very impressive! I don’t think the poor training drone will ever be quite the same again! Look! You put a big dent right in his frown!” This drew a slightly embarrassed grin from Nanoha, and Linith ruffled her hair affectionately. “Now,” she said, drawing the girl further from her moping about her family, “can you tell me why that tactic might not be as effective in a real fight?”

“Well...” Nanoha bit her lip, thinking, “I suppose that if they had allies nearby, it wouldn’t be guaranteed to catch them by surprise. And also they’d have a lot more space to manoeuvre. So... it would be better to use a bind that a moving barrier?”

Another brilliant smile rewarded her for her reasoning, and Linith continued probing her on theory, helping and prompting with hints when she struggled to work out the answers. And off to the side, Fate watched, her eyes narrowed.

She wasn’t a genius like her mother. But she didn’t need to be, to catch Nanoha’s obvious depression. It was masked while she was doing something active that took her mind off it, but the blonde girl hadn’t missed the way her friend stared off into space between bursts of activity.

She caught herself. Was Nanoha a friend, now? She supposed so. And friends looked out for one another when they were upset - she knew that much, even if she’d never really had any before. Only half-memories from Alicia, and that was long ago for her, now.

She considered the girl talking to her mother’s familiar again, looking for the little, half-hidden signs that showed she was hurting.

She might need to do something about this.

...

Night-time on the Garden of Time was creepy. Fate had always found it that way, for as long as she had been here. Three years hadn’t changed the opinion in the slightest, and experiencing the true nightfall of a real planet had only reinforced it. On Earth, the night was soothing, soft. The sounds of the city dimmed - not much, admittedly, but a little. And up in her penthouse, the bright radiance of the sun receded and left the softer, quieter light of the moon and the stars. Up even higher, flying up above the city until the blaze of artificial lights dimmed, she could think in peace and silence with only the cool night breezes to keep her company. There was a kind of... tranquillity to it.

The Garden wasn’t like that, though. The Garden didn’t even _have_ a ‘night-time’, truly. It orbited no sun; its illumination was all internal and artificial. Night, or what passed for it, was just the periodic deactivation of most of the lights. Some remained on, though, at a low level. Even when dimmed, the harsh, alien lights only served to make the shadows deeper and darker.

But Fate was on a mission, and spookiness wasn’t going to put her off. Barefoot, with the skirt of her silken nightie billowing faintly as she moved, she padded along the cold floor towards the guest quarters. It was late - far past the time she would normally be asleep - but she wanted to assure herself that Nanoha was coping as well as she appeared to be. Taking a left turn at the junction onto the guest wing, she ghosted down the short corridor past the rooms Linith had prepared, despite the unlikelihood that the Garden would ever have visitors.

A fond smile tinted the edge of her mouth at that. The odds might have been long, but Linith had been right after all, in the end.

She slowed down as she approached the room Nanoha was staying in, unsure of whether to peek in at the girl or just assure herself that there were no sounds of nightmares coming from within. The decision was taken out of her hands, however, as she reached it.

... was that a light, from under the door? Curious, she padded over softly and gently nudged it open.

“Nanoha-chan?”

The girl was sitting huddled on her bed, covers bundled up around her. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and she was hugging them miserably. From the looks of things, she had been crying.

“Nanoha-chan!” Fate exclaimed, as she took in the state of her new friend, and rushed over. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

The look Nanoha gave her was miserable, and Fate felt a little stupid. It was obvious why she was upset - hadn’t she just come over for exactly that reason? She fought off the brief urge to try and find Linith - she didn’t want to leave Nanoha alone, and Linith was probably asleep - and instead ransacked her brain for how Linith had acted towards her in similar situations.

Edging the last metre or so to the bed, she hesitantly sat down, feeling the silence in the air and looking around the room. It was simple - Linith hadn’t gone overboard - but tastefully decorated with cream walls and a few items of furniture scattered here and there. An ancient-looking desk, a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, a comfy-looking chair... and the bed that she was sitting on, of course. Not much, and nothing fancy, but enough.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she offered, after a moment or two of quiet. She tried to keep her voice soothing, reassuring. Pushing for an answer wouldn’t help. Linith had always just made herself available, and let Fate know that if she wanted to talk, her caregiver would listen.

The head retreated a little further into the covers for a moment, before a watery voice emerged from the bundle.

“I was trying to get to sleep... only... it’s not _my_ bed,” it sniffed. “...and it’s... it just hit me again that this isn’t a sleepover thing or... I mean... I can’t go back. I didn’t want to sleep, because... I was... I might have bad dreams again. And it’s not my bed. I miss home.” Another sniff was barely audible, as were her next words. “I know it sounds stupid over just a bed, but... I just...”

Fate shifted closer, wrapping her arms around the bundle of blankets as best she could. It wasn’t as good as a Linith hug, she was fairly sure, but it was the best she could do. For a minute or two, they stayed like that, one offering silent comfort to the other. Eventually, Fate spoke again, slowly, as if pulling the words from some deep chasm of memory.

“I miss home too, you know,” she started, and felt rather than saw Nanoha’s head turn towards her in surprise. She continued softly without the need for prompting, half-lost in the past. “We didn’t always live here, on the Garden,” she explained. “Well, I have. But... it’s complicated. You heard Mother say that I’m not her... um... _natural_ daughter, yes? I’m a clone, technically, of Alicia. I was meant to be a way to bring her back in a new body, but that didn’t work... though like Mother says, she got a second daughter from it, a sister for Alicia-chan, so it was a sort-of success. But the point is, I have memories of before I was technically born. Alicia-chan’s memories. Sort of. They’re not... exactly _real_ , they’re all washed out and faded and... more like remembering a recording of something than the thing itself.” She tilted her head, considering. “... which I guess makes sense,” she added, “since they are a recording, taken from Alicia-chan.”

She sighed, shifting into a more comfortable position on the bed. She didn’t release the hug, but with her back against the wall and Nanoha curled against her side, there was far less strain on her side. Nanoha shifted as well, curling into her, and she felt two slender arms emerge from the bundle of blankets and wrap around her waist with surprising force as the girl’s head came to rest on her shoulder, still hooded by a layer of the covers.

“Anyway,” she picked up again from where she had left off, “they’re not exactly real memories. But I still know about the house that Mother used to have. And even though it was Alicia-chan living with her, it _feels_ like it was me.” A wistful smile crossed her face. “It was lovely there, before the accident. The house was huge, and we didn’t lack for anything, and Mother was kind and laughing and gentle - she’s so much more sad and cold now. I worry about her, sometimes. She looks so pale. Back then, she was healthy and happy and always made time for her daughter. Picnics on the lawns, and playing around in the dining room even though it was for eating...”

She trailed off, lost in reminiscence for a moment, and blinked several times to clear her misty eyes before gathering herself. “And now we’re here,” she finished, “on the Garden. And that home is... gone. I was so scared when I woke up... I wasn’t at home, and Mother was so much older and thinner all of a sudden, and acting differently. The Garden was scary, and Linith was new, and I didn’t know what had happened or why or when or how, just that something had, and that things couldn’t go back to the way they were before.”

The arms around her squeezed tighter for a moment, sympathetically. Fate smiled again, gratefully.

“But... things got better. There was a scary bit not long after I woke up, when Mother realised that I wasn’t Alicia, that I was too different, my own person. But she didn’t hold it against me, and she gave me my new name and said that she needed me. That I was important, and Alicia-chan’s sister, and that she was glad she had me. And Linith was loving and kind, and helped me adjust. I learned about Alicia-chan, and visited her, and promised to save her. I trained and learned magic and grew, both in age and in skill.” She stared into space, remembering the long ago. “And then Mother found out about the Jewel Seeds, and told me it was time. Time to be grown-up and responsible, and help save Alicia for real. And so I went to Earth to retrieve them.”

For the first time since she had started speaking, she looked down. The blankets had retreated a little, and reddened eyes in a tear-streaked face looked up at her. The quiet sobs had stopped at some point, as had the sniffing, and while Nanoha still looked sad, it had lessened as she got caught up in Fate’s story. The blonde girl’s expression was peaceful, serene - as if baring her heart had given her some profound measure of peace regarding the events she spoke of.

“And that’s where I met you,” she finished, lips quirking in a little grin. Startled by the sudden grin and the sudden shift in topic towards her, Nanoha let slip a quiet giggle as well. “I know it’s scary, and lonely, and it seems like your life has fallen apart,” she concluded, “but good things _can_ come of it. And like Mother said, there’s a good chance that once all the Jewel Seeds are gone, the TSAB will leave your planet alone. As long as you haven’t done anything more than help us gather them, and if the spell to contact Alhazred and save Alicia-chan goes off without a hitch, they won’t have much of a reason to pursue you. Even if they notice you going back home, they’ll probably just keep an eye on you for a few years to make sure you don’t do anything destructive, and then leave you alone. They’re stretched far too thin to be able to pursue every mage who so much as crosses them, Mother says. If you just lie low for a little while after all of this is over, you can go back home and everything will be fine.”

Now it was Nanoha smiling gratefully at her, and tearing up a little. Fate hugged her a little harder, and they sat together in silence for a little while more.

“... Fate-chan?” Nanoha asked, after another minute or so of comfortable quiet. “You said you were a clone, right?”

“Yes. A program called,” she concentrated, “Project Fate was used to create me. I’m what’s called an Artificial Mage - one whose magical abilities aren’t naturally occurring. Alicia-chan wouldn’t have been anywhere near as magically powerful as I am.”

Nanoha paused to consider this. “Huh,” she responded, mildly impressed, “cool. But... no. What I was going to ask was... do you have a bellybutton?”

Fate blinked, somewhat thrown by the non-sequitor. "... eh?" she managed.

Nanoha frowned, taking her mystification for a lack of comprehension. “See, the belly button comes from where the...” she concentrated “... um-bil-ic-al cord connects from your tummy to the inside of your mama when she's pregnant with you, right? But if you were made in a tank, you wouldn’t have had one, so you shouldn’t have a belly button.” She nodded, satisfied with this logic.

Fate was less convinced. “I do have a belly button, though,” she objected. Nanoha’s face slid into a mask of careful consideration at this revelation.

“Are you sure you’re a clone, then?” she asked, suspiciously. Fate’s lips twitched again, and she nodded. Nanoha hummed, faced with a mystery, and looked vaguely off to the side as if the antiqued wardrobe would answer all of her questions if she merely stared at it hard enough. After a few seconds of thought, she looked up again triumphantly. “I know!” she exclaimed, “maybe your tank had a cord-thingy! Only it might have been a weird one, different from normal ones... I should check and see!”

Fate was still too stunned by the abrupt change of subject to process this decision for a second or so. Had she been, she would probably have acted to stop it immediately. As it was, though, she didn’t quite realise what Nanoha meant until the girl had burst out from under the covers, grabbed the hem of her nightie and yanked upwards.

“ _Nanoha-chan!_ ” Fate yelped, scandalised. She attempted to push the other girl away, but their positions made it impossible. Nanoha was too centred, and still half on top of her legs from the embrace Fate had drawn her into.

“Hmm...” mused Nanoha, staring at the belly-button in question. “It _looks_ fairly normal.” She sounded almost disappointed, before brightening up. “Though there are some sort of cog-shaped marks around it! Oh, and you’re an outie, like me. Hmm. Maybe-”

She got no further, as it was at that point that Fate grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back out from under the nightie. Red eyes seemed to glow as bright as the cheeks below them as Fate _glared_.

To her credit, Nanoha looked faintly embarrassed, and avoided the irate gaze. “Heh heh...” she laughed nervously. “Sorry. I... uh... got a bit caught up in the moment.” She looked sheepish for a moment before looking back at her friend. “Um... apologies?”

Fate held the glare for a moment longer before subsiding. Nanoha hadn’t meant any harm, she supposed, and the investigation - however embarrassing - seemed to have thoroughly diverted her attention from her previous misery in conjunction with Fate’s story and reassurances. She sighed, nodded, and yawned.

“Mmm, fine,” she mumbled. “Now... s’late. And I’m tired. And...” she briefly considered the walk back to her room. The long, cold, creepy walk back to her room. Where her bed would have got cold by now. She sighed. Her life was harsh, at times. “...I’m going back to my room. Night.”

She began to get up and make for the door, but Nanoha had other ideas. Two arms wrapped around her waist from behind as she made to rise, and pulled her down into a horizontal position with a soft thump and a protesting squeak from the mattress.

“No,” Nanoha murmured, and began pulling the covers over them. “Stay. Like when Arisa and Suzuka stay over. Talk more in the morning?” The last was issued as a tentative plea. Resisting or complaining would have taken far too much energy. Sighing again, Fate melted into the pillow as the covers settled around her and a slight, shivering frame huddled close to her side, head finding its way into the crook of a shoulder.

“Night, Fate-chan,” a quiet voice murmured as a hand emerged from the covers, searched for a few seconds and found the light switch. The room went dark.

“... night, Nanoha-chan.”

...

Fate woke to the sensation of warm breath tickling her neck. It was not a comfortable experience. She tried to squirm away from the source, only to discover that whatever heavy thing was lying on her arm had sent it numb at some point during the night, prompting an immediate case of pins and needles as soon as she moved it.

Blearily, it occurred to her to wonder why on earth Nanoha had considered this to be a good idea. The only awakening she could remember that was more uncomfortable was the time Arf had clambered into her bed, still in wolf form, after splashing through half a dozen muddy puddles and only shaking herself _mostly_ dry.

Her master’s reaction had ensured that the canine familiar had only done so once.

Fate finally managed to free her arm from under the mass to her left, only to have it shift and grab the freed appendage again. On the plus side, the movement shifted the uncomfortable breath from her collarbone to her shoulder, which was something of a relief. Source of discomfort removed, she returned to her thoughts.

She might have been a little unfair to Arf, she supposed. She had only wanted to snuggle up to Fate, and hadn’t really understood at that point why it might be a bad thing to do so while still damp and smelling of muddy puddle-water. And the occasions beforehand where she had done the same thing in her smaller puppy form - while dry - had been far more happily received. The little familiar had been a wonderful source of comfort when she’d been-

Fate’s eyes opened again suddenly, staring out at the darkness of the room as a pleased smile spread beneath them. That... was an idea. A good one. But before she could put it into practice, she would have to get out of the bed. Into the cold that was lurking in the air like a malicious spectre, waiting for her to dare peek so much as a toe out from the safety of the cocoon of sheets.

Gritting her teeth, she slipped out from under the warmth of the covers into the chill air. Goosebumps formed on her arms, but she squared her jaw and made her way back to her room through the strange corridors of the Garden. She wanted a shower. Yes... a nice hot shower, she thought, before squeaking as she accidentally stepped off a carpeted area and onto cold stone. Grimacing, she continued, taking care to keep to the carpets. And then, after her shower, she would need to get ready for the day.

...

It had seemed like a much better idea when she hadn’t been standing in front of the door to her mother’s rooms.

Fate fidgeted nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and trying to keep her eyes off the carved frescoes that decorated the corridor outside the master suite that her mother had claimed as her own. Her still-slightly-damp hair was tied back, hanging down against her back. After a moment, she tentatively raised a hand and knocked again.

There was no answer. She frowned, the faint glimmerings of concern starting to form. It was unlike Precia to still be asleep when she awoke - though it was admittedly rather earlier than Fate usually rose - and even if she was busy, she would normally have said so through the door, coupled with a command to leave her be. Concern won out over fear of a tongue-lashing, and Fate gently pushed at the heavy, metal-ceramic door, the lights of the corridor glinting off the black, glassy surface as it swung inwards.

Precia didn’t make a habit of locking doors on the Garden. There was no need to. Her orders were a far more effective method of keeping the other inhabitants out of areas she declared private than any lock or bar could have been. Despite their obvious weight, the doors opened with a light push. Perfectly balanced and well-maintained, they made no sound as they revealed the room beyond.

Whatever Fate had been expecting, it wasn’t the sight that greeted her.

“Mother!”

All hesitance gone, she shot forward like an arrow from a bow, dashing across the wide, spacious room without heed for the rich carpet beneath her boots. Precia Testarossa lay slumped across her desk, head to one side, breathing faintly. Fate skidded to a halt as she got close enough to see the papers and notebooks littering the desk, and recognise what the dark spots of liquid on them were. Her eyes widened in horror.

 _‘Linith! LINITH!’_ she screamed, afraid to touch the woman in case she made things worse. A crash and a muffled curse emerged from a small door off to the side of the room, and a rumpled Linith spilled out.

“Fate-chan?” she said, blinking sleepily. “What... why are you up so early in the- oh no.” The familiar shifted modes fluidly as she took in the state of her master, bustling over and carefully lifting Precia back into a sitting position. “Fate-chan,” she said, her tone business-like, “wait outside, please. I’ll call you back in when I’ve finished tending to Precia-sama.”

“But-”

“Fate-chan. Now, please.” Linith’s voice was gentle, but firm. Fate hesitated for a second, and then went.

The wait was agonising. The minutes seemed to drag by with glacial speed as visions of what might be going on behind the doors flashed through her mind. Forcibly shaking her head, she tried to distract herself. Linith had said she was up early, but she wasn’t... oh, wait. Of course, she was still operating on Earth time. Or Japan time, she supposed. She was probably up hours before she’d normally be awake.

Another thought snuck into her mind, wriggling in like a tiny, bitter-tasting worm. Linith had been surprised to see her, and worried about Precia. But she hadn’t seemed surprised at the woman’s state. Which meant... this had probably happened before. A lot. The only reason she’d never seen it until now was that she’d never seen Precia before Linith did... whatever she was doing at the moment.

Shaking her head again furiously, Fate breathed deeply, wrenching her mind away from the subject. She didn’t want to speculate on how ill her mother was. Didn’t want to reach the answers she feared she would arrive at.

“Fate-chan?”

She looked up, as the door opened a crack and Linith poked her head out.

“Alright, you can come in now. Don’t worry, it wasn’t as bad as it looked - just a little coughing fit, and she fell asleep after working late. She’s fine.”

Fate wasn’t entirely sure she believed that, but nodded anyway and followed Linith back into the luxurious room. It was the first time she’d been into Precia’s personal rooms, and she tried not to stare at the rich tapestries and intricate murals that lined the walls. The room was roughly circular, and surprisingly sparse in furniture, with only a few pieces scattered around that obviously served a functional purpose rather than an ornamental one. Despite its size and potential expense, it was a room that was slept in, worked in and otherwise disregarded.

Precia was still sitting in the same chair, now swivelled round with her back to the desk. She looked far better than she had, though. Her skin was no longer as pale, and no blood flecks stained her mouth or hands. She regarded Fate levelly, with a hint of annoyance.

“You wanted something?” she asked, her tone suggesting that it had better be important. Fate froze for a moment before remembering why she had originally come to speak to her mother, and nodded.

“Yes,” she said. “When I first met Nanoha-chan, the Jewel Seed infected a kitten. I didn't take it with me at the time... um... I'm sorry about that, I was focusing on getting the Jewel Seed. But I thought it might provide you with data on how of Jewel Seeds affect living creatures, and I was wondering whether I could go and retrieve it.”

An eyebrow rose, as Precia’s violet gaze sharpened. “You have another reason.” she stated. It was not a question.

Fate nodded. “I do.” She waited for the subtle nod of permission before continuing. “I’m... worried... about how Nanoha-chan is coping. She’s very upset, however well she’s hiding it. And she’s also starting to feel homesick already. I’ve done what I can, but I think it would be good if she could have something to hold onto, to comfort her. She defended it when I attacked in order to seal the Seed, and it seemed to like her after it went back to normal. I thought maybe I could give it to her as a present after you finish looking at it.”

She glanced at her mother's expression, gauging how far she could go. Hoping she wasn't overstepping her bounds, she quietly added, “it... also might be a good idea for her to meet with her family, to ensure the TSAB don’t lie to them and to let her see for herself that they’re safe. To stop her from worrying so much.”

Precia raised a finger, and Fate fell silent. She had given her pitch, and now it was up to her mother to decide whether or not to approve it. The woman was silent for several moments, considering the proposal carefully. It offered benefits, yes... but at risk. She pursed her lips, thinking through the possibilities.

“... very well,” she decided at length. “But care must be taken not to draw TSAB attention. I am loathe to allow much traffic between UA-97 and the Garden, and they will undoubtedly be watching the girl’s house. Hmm. If she can find some way of contacting her family without exposing herself to the TSAB, I will allow it.”

Inside, Fate cheered. On the outside, however, she schooled her expression into one of respectful gratitude, and curtseyed.

“Thank you, Mother. I will inform her of the arrangements and help her work out how to contact her parents. And... um... can I make the kitten a surprise?”

Beside Precia, Linith gave a soft chuckle. “I’m sure she’ll love it either way, Fate-chan. But it does sound like a nice idea. I have no doubt it will raise her spirits as a present.”

The dark-haired woman nodded. “True. Alright, do as you wish on that score. And Fate? Do not return to the Garden in person once you have collected it. I think... yes, you will go together, to continue the search for the Lost Logia. Split up, and collect the animal while she meets her mother, if circumstances allow for it. Teleport it back to me, but stay on-planet yourself. The secrecy of the Garden must remain paramount, and while something small and non-magical should slip through any net the TSAB cast, a mage as powerful as you might not. I will teleport it back to you once I have examined it thoroughly.”

Standing at the heavy door, her face half illuminated and half cast in shadow by the brighter light of the corridor outside, Fate curtseyed again in acknowledgement.

“Yes, Mother. As you wish.”

...

Despite Precia’s agreement to Fate’s proposal, it was late afternoon, Japan time, before Nanoha and Fate were given permission to actually return to Earth. Linith fussed over them even as they prepared, grilling Nanoha one last time on her understanding of the plan as Arf paced around Fate’s legs impatiently.

“It’s Tuesday afternoon,” started the brunette tiredly, “so that means mama will be working at the bakery until six.” She had good reason to be bored of going over the details, as it was the fifth time Linith had asked her to confirm them in the past half hour. “I’ll catch her as she’s going home, and make sure to do it far away from the bakery and the house. The TSAB can’t follow her individually from orbit, and they don’t have enough people to follow her individually.”

“But?” prompted Linith. Nanoha sighed, and continued in a bored tone, her voice shifting tone as she repeated the conditions she had been extensively drilled on.

“But if I see anything suspicious or sense any magic, I’m to flee immediately at top speed and signal Fate-chan to come and help me.” Linith nodded, satisfied, and Nanoha continued. “I’m not to talk to her for longer than an hour, and as soon as I’m done, I have to get out of there and meet up with Fate-chan and Arf-chan. I can’t tell her about the Garden, or give any names or the specifics of what we’re trying to do.”

“Wonderful,” the familiar congratulated her. “I know it seems tiresome to have to repeat it, but this is very important. You’ll remember to stay in contact with Fate-chan while she’s patrolling, yes?”

“Yes, Linith-san,” agreed Nanoha dutifully.

“And you’ll make sure to stay near Arf-chan while you’re talking to your mother?”

An exasperated sigh. “ _Yes_ , Linith-san.”

The older woman smiled and tousled her hair. “Good,” she said, “and the three of you be very careful, alright? I don’t want to see any of you hurt.”

Fate chose that moment to step in, earning a grateful look from Nanoha for the rescue. “We will, Linith,” she assured her caregiver, “but we need to go now if we want to make it there in good time.” She turned to Nanoha, anticipating the other girl’s query. “We’ll be going by a fairly indirect route,” she explained, “jumping through four other worlds before arriving at UA-97. That way, even if the TSAB picks up our teleportation, they won’t be able to trace us back to the Garden.”

Nanoha nodded in understanding, and Fate took her hands, Arf pressing close to her legs as she took a deep breath.

“Alright then,” she said. “Try to hold on.”

And with a long chant and a blinding flash of magic, they were gone.

Sunlight greeted them at their first destination. Not the warm yellow rays of Nanoha’s homeworld, though. This light was brighter, harsher, emanating from a blindingly bright disk that was slipping below the horizon. The wind whistled past the girls, and it was only as Nanoha looked down that she realised how _high_ they were. Far, far below them, a landscape of desert bush and sand lay in darkness, the sun having already passed below the horizon from ground level. Even at the altitude Nanoha and Fate floated at, the blazing sun was halfway set, its glare turning the entire horizon-line into a pyrotechnic display of fiery hues.

Nanoha had been half-asleep and in shock when she had been brought to the Garden two nights ago. Now, she was fully aware of the sights around her. Gasping in wonder, she turned as far as Fate’s iron grip on her hands allowed her to, drinking in the scenery - her first real look at another world, another sun, another sky. A radiant grin spread across her face as the realisation of what she was seeing sank in, and she turned back to her friend excitedly. But Fate’s eyes were closed, and she was already chanting the coordinates for the next stop on their trip.

A flash of yellow light briefly joined the infernal glow of the alien sunset, and the skies were left empty once more.

It was early morning on the next world, which seemed to be another Type 1 world like Earth. The sun was certainly right, and the sky was a clear blue, with a few puffy clouds drifting overhead. They were a lot closer to the ground this time than the last. Rather than kilometres above the ground, they were barely above the tops of the tallest trees.

And how many trees! An unbroken carpet of greenery stretched away to each of the four horizons, and the shrieks and whoops of howler monkeys and birds filled the air. A particularly adventurous pair of what looked like parrots fluttered up to investigate the new arrivals to their home, but Arf snapped at them to warn them off getting too close. They hung back, curious but wary of the familiar’s snapping jaws, until another torrent of birdsong from below drew them back down again.

As Fate began the casting for the next jump, Nanoha put an idea she’d had while at the Garden into practice. When Fate had fed her power in the cocoon of vines that the last Jewel Seed had ensnared them in, it had been a wasteful process, with far too much energy lost. But the concept had been sound, and Nanoha had seen how useful it could be if the effect were streamlined.

“Divide Energy,” she whispered as the magic gathered, and her own power rose to meet it, streaming into the structure of the spell she had devised. And through it, into Fate. The blonde’s eyes flew open.

“Na-” she had just enough time to start, before the completed teleportation spell took hold of them and they vanished in a burst of gold.

It was night-time, and the burst of light as they appeared on the ground sent up a chorus of chittering calls from a flock of small, winged creatures that burst off a nearby tree and dispersed into the night. The air was cool, and they stood next to a wide river that wound its way through vast open plains to their right. Over to Nanoha’s left, it disappeared into a thick forest of pines, and she could faintly hear the crash of a waterfall in the distance from the same direction.

“-noha!”

Fate’s exclamation, however, drew her attention back to her immediate surroundings. She looked at the blonde in surprise, wondering why she sounded so upset.

“Fate-chan?” she asked, confused. Arf huffed in annoyance, butting her head against Nanoha’s knee.

 _‘What was that?’_ she asked irately, seeing that her master seemed to be struggling for words.

“... a spell,” Nanoha replied, in a tone that clearly communicated how obvious she saw the answer as. “Like how Fate-chan lent me some of her magic, remember?” She turned back to the blonde girl, shrugging apologetically. “I thought that the repeated teleports must be draining for you, that’s all.”

“Yes, but...” Fate paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “That was a _spell_. Defined, controlled, streamlined. Where did you learn that?”

Nanoha blinked. “I... made it up?” she said. It was half statement, half question, and her two companions stared at her with matched expressions of disbelief, which faltered slightly as they met Nanoha’s expression of honest confusion.

“That...” Fate started, before trailing off. “... okay, fine. Never mind. But you could have disrupted my concentration if you had mistimed that, and I don’t know _where_ we’d have ended up then. Don’t do that again without warning me, okay?”

Suitably admonished, Nanoha nodded. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realise I might... uh...”

She trailed off, staring fixedly at the river. “Um... Fate-chan?” she asked nervously. “What’s that?”

‘That’ obliged them by raising its head up from the water it had apparently been sleeping in. A long neck tapered down to a huge, stocky body, half-submerged in the water. From the size of it, the creature’s legs were probably resting on the riverbed, and the shape reminded Nanoha a little of the hippos she had seen on television, though far, far larger.

The girls, however, were more interested in the closer end of the creature’s neck. A blunt-nosed, shovel-like head turned their way, beady eyes blinking at the glow from Fate’s magic. Hissing, the creature unfolded a wide frill from the top of its neck, framing its face with a vivid ring of scarlet.

A mouth the size of a large wheelbarrow opened wide, revealing twin rows of blunt teeth larger than either girl’s fist, and it loosed a titanic roar at the intruders in its territory, reverberating through their bones and leaving them with ringing ears. Never one to back down from a challenge, Arf returned suit with a snarl and a series of furious barks which, while formidable, were somewhat lacking against the onslaught of sound that the scaled river monster had produced.

The girls did not share her attitude. Faced by the fearsome display, Nanoha screamed and turned to run. Barely had she started to accelerate when something cannoned into her back and the world turned into blurred lines around her, streaking past at impossible speed. Somewhere close to her ear, she heard annoyed whining at the rapid retreat.

After a minute or so of frantic flight, Fate slowed down near the edge of the forest that Nanoha had seen earlier and stopped, floating back down to the ground and setting her passengers down as she did so. She and Nanoha held onto one another for a few moments as they stopped hyperventilating, and their heart rates returned to normal.

 _‘Fate-chan!’_ Arf complained, stamping a paw on the ground. _‘Why did we run? I had it on the back paw!’_

Fate spared her a withering look, which reluctantly melted into a smile at Arf’s earnest expression. Still short of breath, she sat down and fanned her face with a hand. “What...” she panted, “... what _was_ that?”

“I think...” said Nanoha, leaning forward and bracing herself on her knees, “... I think that was a dinosaur. It had scales and it looked like some kind of lizard-y thing. Like in that film! Or something like one... maybe a descendant? But it looked kind of like a hippo, too...” She blinked woozily, swaying from side to side a little. “I... don’t feel so good. A little bit... dizzy. Urgh...” She sat down hard, pressing her hands to her chest as she shook her head, trying to get rid of the unpleasantly nauseous feeling.

Raising Heart chimed in her hand. [Elevated oxygen levels, my master,] it said, in its typically lyrical voice. [Filtering molecular intake through Barrier.]

The air Nanoha was breathing immediately seemed to get thinner, less difficult to breathe. A deep tone from Bardiche signalled it doing the same thing for Fate. After a moment to recover, Nanoha climbed to her feet again and looked around nervously for any more lurking animals before speaking hesitantly.

“I guess... you said that worlds diverge, right? Like... one world splits into two, so there are a lot of others like Earth around?”

Fate nodded. “Type 1 worlds, they’re called. The kind you live on, that is. Type 4 worlds are like Midchilda, where Mother comes from. We passed through a Type 3 on the way here - that desert one.”

Nanoha thought for a moment. “Then... I guess in this one, the dinosaurs didn’t all die out,” she theorised. “Or something like that, anyway. Oh!” Her exclamation of surprise came as something hopped across her foot, chirping as it did so. She crouched down to see, giggling as she saw the culprit. It was a little bird, with drab plumage around its mouth that looked more like whiskers than feathers and a stubby, ridged beak with tooth-like protrusions and a fleshy surface. It chirped at her again, fluffing out its plumage and spreading its stubby little wings tipped with tiny hand-like claws, before hopping off in search of something more edible. It gave the orange wolf a wide berth as it did so, catching her look of interest and wanting nothing to do with it.

“We should go,” Fate cut in, before Nanoha or Arf could get too caught up in exploring the strange world or chasing the wildlife, and found herself the recipient of a pout and a pleading look to the contrary. But Nanoha could see that her friend was right, and so heaved a mournful sigh and nodded. Something caught her eye as she did so, though, and she held up a finger in a universal ‘wait’ gesture.

“Can I just get a flower for mama?” she asked, pointing at the pink blossoms that decorated the trees. Not waiting for an answer, she activated her Flier Fins and flew up to the treeline. Close up, she could see that her initial impression of the trees as being pines had been wrong - they were broad-leafed, and their branches spread out a lot more. Quickly comparing the flower blossoms within reach, she selected what looked like the brightest of them, with soft pink petals that matched the colour of her own magic. Plucking it from the branch and tucking it behind her ear, she drifted back down to Fate and took her hands.

“Okay!” she said cheerfully. “Let’s go!”

The red sun of the fourth and final world was cold and harsh, visible only as a hellish glow through the thick clouds above the snow-wreathed land they appeared over. Nanoha shivered, though her Barrier Jacket kept her warm. A glow from a valley several miles away marked civilisation of some sort huddled in a crevasse where it was protected somewhat from the elements, but it was the only sign of life she could see. The only sounds were the howl of the snowstorm and the wind. Quietly, Arf whined.

 _‘I don’t like this place,’_ she murmured. _‘It’s like a dead land.’_ Nanoha nodded without taking her eyes off the white plains. She felt much the same way. This place was lifeless, desolate. Empty.

“A Type-2 world,” remarked Fate. “They’re a lot colder than most types. Not many are settled.” Squeezing Nanoha’s hands reassuringly, she began the final chant. Nanoha looked around at the bleak landscape, listening with half an ear to her friend’s spellcasting. Some worlds were beautiful, she decided, but others, like this one, were bleak and scary places. She was relieved when the glow of Fate’s magic engulfed them and they were hurtled through the dimensions to their final destination.

The warm afternoon sun beat down on them as if welcoming Nanoha back as they stood atop Fate’s penthouse building, looking out over the city. Fate nodded to Nanoha once, waited for her to return it, and then leapt into the air, streaking up quietly until she was too high to be seen. Nanoha watched the black dot as it flew off, presumably to start searching for Jewel Seeds, until it disappeared.

 _‘Well?’_ Arf prompted, and she nodded, turning her own attention to the city below. She had a different mission.

“Mama,” she breathed. Flanked by the orange wolf at her heels, Raising Heart in hand and Barrier Jacket ready, she set off.

She was long overdue an honest talk with her family.

...

The Tsukimura estate was as extensive as Fate remembered it to be. From her position on the street outside the high fence that surrounded the property, she could see the general area of her first confrontation with Nanoha, though of course there was no sign of the battle they had fought. Even if the damage to the small wood hadn’t been contained by the barrier, it had been several months since that day - enough time for any obvious signs to heal.

Well. Maybe not the trees that the kitten had knocked over. Those would probably have been still noticeable.

Her musings on that day - it seemed so long ago, now, and yet at the same time it was as if barely any time had passed at all - were interrupted by a telepathic voice.

_‘Fate-chan? I’ve met mama. Uh... I mean... made contact. Arf-chan is keeping watch. Okay?’_

_‘Alright,’_ she acknowledged, and turned her attention to her mission. She needed to get the kitten and send it back to the Garden before Nanoha had finished. It wouldn’t do to be found here by the other girl and ruin the surprise.

Peering into the grounds as best she could, she frowned in annoyance as she noted the lights on in several windows. It looked like the house was inhabited. Well... fine. That was annoying, but not too large an obstacle in retrieving the kitten. She would just have to be quick, quiet, and careful not to be seen by anybody.

“Hey there! Excuse me?”

Drat.

Fate half-turned to see where the shout had originated from, and winced again. Purple hair and a white school uniform... it was one of Nanoha’s two schoolfriends - Suzuka, she recalled - advancing down the pavement towards her. The natives might not recognise what she was wearing for what it was, but it wasn’t at all normal. Civilian clothes here were remarkably lacking in armoured metal boots and long black capes.

And by turning to look, she had already voided any possibility of pretending she hadn’t heard. Double drat. She turned to run, intending to lose the other girl and double back to get the kitten later. With her Barrier Jacket providing a physical boost to her capabilities, she was confident she could outpace any normal human, even on foot.

But she had hesitated too long. Barely had she started to run when a hand closed around her wrist with a grip like steel. Jerked backwards, Fate’s eyes widened - the girl was incredibly strong for her size. Still, Fate was stronger, and she prepared to wrench her arm from the girl’s grasp.

“No, please, wait!”

… and paused. There was an edge of real desperation in Suzuka’s voice.

“You’re... the way you’re dressed. You’re like that woman from the hot springs, aren’t you? You’re the blonde girl she was talking about. Please... Nanoha wasn’t in school today. Or yesterday. And her house is all smashed up and there are reporters there, and her parents have said she’s missing, and... please, what’s going on? What was that... that _thing_ that happened on Sunday, with the sickness and the headaches? Where’s Nanoha? Is she safe?”

Fate remained silent, facing away from the girl.

“Please!” Suzuka begged, squeezing the blonde’s hand, “Arisa and I are really worried about her! I... we’d been arguing about... stupid things, and now she’s gone and there are... on the news, it’s saying that...” she broke off, letting out a quiet sob. “I... just want to know she’s safe. Please.”

Despite herself, Fate softened, and turned to face the native schoolgirl, who let out a quiet gasp as she met the crimson gaze. Her eyes were reddened, and Fate recognised the signs of recent tears.

“... she’s fine,” she said quietly. “She’s upset because of what happened at her home, but she’s not hurt and… she’s mostly fine. She had a lot of hard questions, but she’s had most of them answered.” She paused, considering. “She misses you, I think,” she added, “and her family. But she’s doing something very important, and she’ll be able to come back home once it’s over.”

“What is she doing, though?” Suzuka asked desperately. “Where is she? What questions? She’s been acting strange for months... what’s going _on?_ The lights in the sky on Saturday, the weird stuff at the hospital, that pulse on Sunday... they’re connected, aren’t they? Please, tell me what’s happening!”

“... I’m sorry.” Fate’s voice was low and soft, but firm. She began to turn away dispassionately, throwing a parting shot over her shoulder. “I can’t tell you anything about that. It would be for the best if you stayed out of this. Nanoha will come back when she can.”

“Wait! I won’t let you go until you explain what-aah!” Suzuka tightened her grip as she spoke, voice rising in anger. The only thing she accomplished, though, was giving Fate more leverage. With a twist and a wrench, Fate’s arm was free and the purple-haired girl was sent sprawling backwards.

Almost as soon as she was released, Fate took off down the street, metal boots clacking loudly against the paving slabs. Shouts from behind her announced Suzuka getting back up and pursuing, but despite the girl’s impressive speed in an ankle-length schooldress, she was no match for the blonde. The long streamers of hair flying behind the strangely-dressed girl vanished around the corner before she was halfway to the turning, and by the time she got there herself, there was no sign of the mysterious visitor.

Hidden within the veiling canopy of one of the trees behind the fence, Fate watched the girl look for her in increasing frustration before finally giving up. She hung her head, shoulders shaking slightly in a mixture of anger, grief and worry, before slowly trudging off, back towards the main entrance to the manor. Fate’s heart went out to her, but she steeled herself not to reach out and comfort the girl. For now, it was better that she stay unaware of exactly what her friend was involved in. Really, it probably hadn’t been a good idea for Fate to say as much as she had, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from reassuring Suzuka that Nanoha was safe and unharmed.

Sighing wearily, she turned her attention to the grounds. Hopefully, Suzuka would go and tell her other friend about the encounter, or just stay in her room. Fate wasn’t keen on running into her again.

As for herself? She had a kitten to capture.

...

It was an auspicious day. Vesta had, as was only natural for the universally acknowledged princess and icon of all felines, finally managed to oust the calico from the comfy red seat with feather cushions. Content and modest in her victory, she was basking in the luxurious perch and idly digging her claws into the cushion her head rested on from time to time, sending only the occasional smirk down at her defeated rival on the cold floor below her.

The fact that her position allowed a sunbeam to fall across her body only made the day all the better.

Eyes half-closed in bliss, she purred softly to herself as she basked, weighing the balance of the warmth and comfort of her current position against the tentative pangs of hunger that were starting to make themselves known. She was just beginning to idly consider whether to stay on her hard-earned seat or to go in search of food and attention befitting one so exalted as she, when the unthinkable happened. A cruel, foul and monstrous _shadow_ blocked out the light she was enjoying and disturbed her rest and relaxation. Hissing in outraged fury, Vesta opened her eyes and reared up to reprimand whoever had been so crass and ignorant as to insult her.

And froze.

It was like a nightmare come back to haunt her. It couldn’t possibly be real... and yet it was. Unmistakably. Her memories of that time were a little blurry, but there was no mistaking the scent, or the appearance, of That Human. The dark, electric, scary Human who was made of evil, who had been terrifying and painful and attacked her from nowhere. Who now stood in the middle of the room, silhouetted against the light shining through the window, her wickedly pointed axe glinting murderously in her hand.

And she was looking directly at Vesta!

Vesta was a brave kitten. Great sagas would have been written about her deeds, had any of the humans been intelligent enough to recognise and acknowledge them for what they were. So it would be wrong to say that she froze in mute, petrified terror at the sight of the evil dark human of evil. Rather, she stood her ground defiantly in the face of adversity, and met the fearsome aura that wreathed the void-black figure with a contemptuous silence.

She held this stance for all of three seconds before the scary human started to move towards her, and Vesta decided that a tactical retreat was in order to avoid having to bloody her claws with the terrible monster’s ichor. Scampering up the back of the chair, she took a flying leap off the back, landing on a recently polished antique table. Her claws dug into the varnish as she fought for balance and traction, and she skidded across the surface with a faint shriek of tortured wood. Behind her, the scary human spat out a harsh word and sped up, bumping hard into the edge of the table as she made a grab for Vesta. Bravely swiping at the grasping hand with her nearest paw, the kitten made another desperate leap, landing on the floor with a thump, and sped towards the door.

“No! Bad kitten, come back!”

Vesta ignored the frantic, hushed voice as she darted out into the corridor, the evil human hot on her tail. Behind them, a crash announced the table losing the fight with gravity as the combination of Vesta’s leap and Fate’s impact tilted it too far to recover from. But that wasn’t important anymore, the important thing was that the corridor was wide open and devoid of small places to hide, which meant that Vesta was in danger. Spying another half-open door, she made a beeline for it, barely evading a second grab for her.

It was only after entering the room - an office, with a computer desk and a filing cabinet she remembered attempting to sleep in once or twice - that Vesta realised her mistake. There were no other exits. She turned to leave as fast as she had arrived, but the dark human was there before she could get out, blocking the exit. Well, Vesta knew how to deal with that. The big axe she held was scary, and the electric yellow bolts were hurty and evil, but the girl’s legs were bare and undefended. Claws extended, Vesta leapt forward like the perfect killing machine she was.

And slammed into an invisible wall, inches from the soft flesh her claws and fangs sought to rend asunder. Invisible shields, Vesta immediately decided, were _cheating_. Even worse than glass sliding doors, which had been a thoroughly unpleasant discovery.

“Stay _still_ , would you?” hissed the scary human. Vesta hissed back, craning her neck up to bare her teeth at her foe, and took the opportunity to slip around the girl’s leg and back into the corridor. She pinwheeled for a second, unsure of which way to go, before catching sight of beautiful salvation in the form of sunlight. If she could just get outside, she was certain that she could hide until the scary human went away.

Her claws digging into the carpet for extra traction, Vesta sped towards the french doors at the end of the corridor. They were cracked open to allow a breeze to circulate through the house - or maybe that was how the evil human had got in. Vesta didn’t know, and didn’t especially care. This was a matter of life and death, and she was happy to take any escape route that presented itself. Later, when she had recovered, she would face her tormentor again. Then, there would be rending of ankles and gnawing of fingers, and the blonde girl would be rightfully cowed and beg forgiveness from her. Perhaps she would rally the other cats behind her, to slow down the chase. They weren’t her, of course, and thus had no chance of beating such a terrible foe, but they might make the pursuit interesting. But for now, the treacherous beast had the advantage of surprise, and unfair invisible shields protecting her, and electric shooty bolts of doom. Vesta would have to go to ground and regroup before mounting her devastating counterattack.

She was ahead by quite a long way now, far outside the reach of her pursuer. Wary of further tricks, she didn’t slow down in the least as her little body flashed through the half-open doors and into the warm sunlight, and freedom. Angling towards a sprawling azalea bush, she let out an exultant yowl of triumph at her defeat of the catnapping attempt.

Distracted by her proud self-congratulation, it took her a second or two to notice that her feet were no longer in contact with the ground.

“Mraa?” she questioned, more than a little worried at the sudden change. She drifted upwards, seeing the yellow magic enveloping her and buoying her up out of the corner of her eye, and increased the effort she was putting into her struggles to break free. It did very little good.

“Mraa!”

The scary human was floating up with her, she saw, and as the demon in human form reached her, a cruel hand reached out and grabbed Vesta firmly by the scruff of the neck. She attempted to turn her head enough to bite it, but her position made it impossible. And just to put the final cap on the ruination of her day, she caught a glimpse through the window of the room she had been happily inhabiting a few short minutes before.

The calico had reclaimed her chair.

They touched down somewhere in the woods. Vesta didn’t recognise where, and indeed was paying very little attention, still struggling and squirming to get loose. It availed her not, though, as the suspension effect of the yellow binding around her held firm. She was unceremoniously floated into the centre of a yellow circle and dumped in the middle. Immediately turning to flee, she found out the hard way that there was another unfair, cheating invisible barrier around the perimeter.

“You,” the human told her, “are far, far faster and more annoying than any natural animal should be. Now _behave_. And don’t give Mother any trouble.”

Vesta glared in response to the strange words, which didn’t sound at all like the words used by the feeding humans. She didn’t have many other options open to her. The girl chanted for a few seconds, as a strange pressure built around the shivering kitten in the centre of the spinning magic circle, her grey fur taking on a strange bronze colour from the light that radiated from it.

And then the light grew to envelop her, and she knew nothing but darkness for a time. When it faded, she was... elsewhere. Somewhere cold, and metal-glass-smells-wrong. It reminded her of the glowy thing she had licked that had made her all big, and she shivered, fur standing on end. That alone had been bad, the subtle scent of not-right sinuously winding into the air around it. This was infinitely worse, the alien smells saturating the entire atmosphere. Mewling pitifully, the little kitten huddled into a ball, looking around with wide, fearful eyes. She wanted to bolt, to run away and hide, but where to run to when all of her surroundings were equally scary? She whimpered again, high and terrified, shivering in fear.

Warm arms gathered her up - a human, but one who smelt of cat, and mother, and kindness. Gentle fingers pinched the nape of her neck, and Vesta went limp, instinct taking over as she reacted to the way her mother had once carried her.

“Poor thing,” Linith cooed to her. “You must be terrified.” She stroked the little grey and black kitten, tickling it under the chin. “There, there. Good girl. I’ll get you some water and food in a little while, how about that? And a nice warm bed, and I think I have a toy mouse for you to play with as well.” She gently rubbed the shivering body nestled in the crook of her arm as she walked, murmuring reassuring nonsense to the terrified feline and lavishing attention on her. Slipping through the huge doors at her destination, she carefully deposited the kitten on a table, hearing the hum as barriers went up around the edges.

Blinking her eyes open from the half-doze she had fallen into under Linith’s care, Vesta looked around to see where the nice cat-mother-human had gone. Movement caught her eye, and peered upwards.

Violet eyes met her curious gaze.

“Well now,” murmured Precia, fingers already tapping in an analysis sequence to scan the small mammal in front of her. “What _do_ we have here?”

A crackle of electric purple sparked from the equipment, and a high pitched mewl of distress echoed off the arched walls.

...

Nanoha had timed her arrival well. She checked her watch for the third time to assure herself that yes, it was still six pm, and returned to her post. Lurking in the shade of a clump of trees, veiled on two sides by thick bushes, her vantage point gave a clear line of sight to the route that her mother took back from the cafe on her way home. Idly, she toyed with Raising Heart, turning the small red gem around in her fingers. She had dismissed it back to its storage form, and without the conspicuous staff, her Barrier Jacket was easy to mistake for a school uniform - a fact that was unsurprising, as she had modelled it on one.

Arf was... around. Somewhere. The familiar was lurking on the rooftops, keeping a wary eye out for any potential TSAB presence, which also afforded Nanoha a modicum of privacy for her conversation with her mother. Precia had been dismissive of the possibility that the TSAB would have enough manpower to assign her parents a tail, but not enough that she hadn’t taken measures against it. If Arf detected even a hint of Bureau personnel in the area, Nanoha was under strict orders to evacuate immediately.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, she almost missed the familiar figure advancing briskly down the pavement on the other side of the road, and it was only Arf’s mental prompt that drew her attention to the woman. Sending a brief pulse of thanks back to the canine, she stepped out of her hiding place and quietly moved up to the edge of the curb, ignoring the cars whirring past her.

She hesitated, looking across the road at her mother, uncertain of how to go about catching her attention. She needn’t have worried. Momoko’s gaze wandered as she walked, and Nanoha was perfectly placed to watch as she scanned over the young brunette across the road before performing a textbook double-take.

Nanoha hurriedly shook her head as her mother’s mouth opened, waving her hands frantically and pressing a finger to her lips. Beckoning to the older women to come over to her, she backed out of the way of a group of office workers chatting to each other as they uncaringly took up the whole pavement. By the time they had passed her by, her mother was on her side of the road, and with a few quick steps she closed the distance between them and swept Nanoha into a crushing hug.

“My baby,” she whispered in relief, before pulling back to inspect her daughter with laser intensity. “Are you alright? Safe? Not hurt at all by that boy?”

“No, mama,” Nanoha reassured her, before hastily continuing, “and I know you have questions, but can we go somewhere less exposed first? I have a lot to tell you. Important stuff.” She hesitated. “Um... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you any of it earlier. I... I’ll explain that, too.”

 _‘Fate-chan?’_ she sent telepathically, _‘I’ve met mama. Uh... I mean... made contact. Arf-chan is keeping watch. Okay?’_

 _‘Alright,’_ came the reply, though it felt like Fate was a little distracted. Probably in the middle of an intensive scan, Nanoha decided.

They relocated to a small square of greenery amidst the city buildings. Too small to be called a park, it was the size of a reasonably large plaza, with two or three paths curving in to meet at a bandstand at the centre. Freshly mown lawns separated them, with colourful bushes and a few small trees. A little spot of nature in the big city, for office workers to pass through on their way to and from the tower blocks they worked in.

Nanoha and Momoko settled down on one of the lawns, Momoko’s back resting against a tree, her daughter in her lap. For a moment or two, they stayed silent, simply basking in the shared relief that the other was safe and unharmed.

After what was nowhere near long enough for either of them, Momoko sighed.

“I have a lot of questions, you’re right,” she said. “But I’ll let you go first, because you’ll probably answer a lot of them. What did you need to tell me?”

“Okay... um. There’s quite a lot,” Nanoha began, hesitantly. “But to start with... um...” she took a deep breath. “Mama, I’m a magical girl.”

“Yes, darling. I had noticed. You transformed right in front of me, remember?” Momoko smiled at her with a hint of amusement, and a drew a slightly embarrassed giggle from her daughter. “I knew something was going on,” she continued. “You’ve been acting strangely for two or three months now. I wouldn’t have guessed it was this, though!”

“Heh heh... me neither,” Nanoha laughed. “But here I am. I should start at the beginning, though. Um... about three months ago, I was coming back from school when I felt something weird - not physically, it was just a... a weird feeling, in my head. I went to investigate, and I found Yuuno-kun.”

“Your ferret?” Momoko asked, frowning in confusion.

“Uh huh! He’s magical, and he can talk. Well, with telepathy. And... but that’s later. Anyway, he was unconscious and hurt, and he had Raising Heart with him.” Nanoha held up the crimson jewel for her mother’s inspection. “Say hello, Raising Heart!”

[Good afternoon, my master’s mother,] chimed the Device. Momoko blinked, mouth forming a little ‘o’ of surprise as her eyes widened.

“Oh... oh my,” she whispered. “It’s intelligent?”

“Yes. She helps me with casting spells. See, Yuuno-kun is from another dimension - there are lots of them - and magic is common in most places that aren’t Earth. There are loads of different styles, but I use Midchildan. There’s a lot of maths involved, so I’m really good at it! But Raising Heart makes it much easier. She’s my partner.”

[Happy to help, my master,] the partner in question intoned, and Nanoha beamed.

“Yuuno is... wait, he’s the archaeologist?” Momoko asked, several pieces rapidly slotting together.

Nanoha stared.

“I was paid a visit by a... reasonably polite young boy, I suppose, who apologised for attacking my home yesterday afternoon. He explained quite a lot, and then got into a fight with your brother. I was... less than pleased, and asked him to leave.”

Eyes wide, Nanoha shook her head frantically. “Don’t trust anything he told you! The TSAB are the bad guys here, they want to stop Precia-san from-”

“Wait a minute, Nanoha, slow down.” Momoko gripped her shoulders tightly. “Alright. I know that there are a collection of... artefacts of some sort, scattered across the region. I know that... Yuuno, apparently, found them and came here to retrieve them. I know that you’ve been trying to collect and seal them, as has this Fate girl you’ve been rivals with. And I know that you’ve recently started cooperating with her. Is all of that correct?”

The look that Nanoha gave her mother as she nodded in confirmation could only be described as ‘awed’. Momoko carefully suppressed a smug smirk of motherly omniscience, and moved onto the next topic.

“Alright. Then what on earth is this I hear about a _dimensional criminal_ being involved in all of this?”

“No!” Nanoha objected immediately. “Precia-san is wonderful! She’s really nice, and she’s just trying to save her daughter - not Fate, her other daughter. She got... hurt, a really long time ago, and nothing normal could help her. But Precia-san worked out a way to save her - she’s really smart - and the TSAB won’t let her do it because they think she can’t pull it off! But she can, honest! She’s really, really good at magic - maybe better than I’ll ever be - and she’s already shown that she can handle the Jewel Seeds!”

Momoko raised an eyebrow. “I thought she’d almost caused a disaster already?”

“Ah... no.” Nanoha hung her head. “That... that was me. Well, me and Fate-chan. We were fighting over one of the Jewel Seeds, and... accidentally activated it partially. That’s what that pulse on Saturday was. But that’s how I know Precia-san can handle it! It was Fate-chan who _stopped_ that dimensional quake! Without her Device, even!” Her tone was awed. “And if she can do that... imagine what Precia-san must be capable of.”

Momoko considered. On the one hand, she wasn’t at all happy about trusting a woman she’d never met. On the other hand... she could empathise with what she was apparently trying to do - deeply so - and Nanoha was generally a very good judge of character. If she thought the woman was a good person, she probably was.

“... alright,” she decided. “I’ll believe you on that score, and trust that she knows what she’s doing. But Nanoha, we really need to talk about what you’re going to do now. We’ve had to declare you missing, and with the damage to the house, we’re starting to attract a lot of attention from the press.”

“M-missing?”

“Anything else would have looked very suspicious when the school started asking after you, darling. Your father is trying to clamp down on the media attention and get the official investigation to give up, since we both know they’re not going to go anywhere. He’s calling in a lot of favours from his old contacts in the police, implying it's to do with his old line of work.” She paused briefly, before continuing, voice heavy. “... sweetheart, are you going to be able to come back home soon?”

Nanoha bit her lip, looking down. “I... don’t think so, mama. The TSAB will still be watching the house, and... I have to help Alicia. I’ve seen her, and she looks... so _small_ , mama, so helpless. Like papa did, but she’s just a little girl, only five years old. I can’t abandon her.” Tears pricked at her eyes. “I’m really sorry... I promise I’ll come back once she’s better! It shouldn’t take very long, now that Fate and I are working together. Once she’s okay again, Precia-san can just lie low for a little bit, and the TSAB will lose interest after a few months. Then I can come home.”

Momoko hugged her close, tears trickling down her own face. “You’ve always been so strong...” she murmured, voice hitching. “I knew you were going to say that, but I had to ask. You’re being incredibly brave, Nanoha. I couldn’t be more proud of you. Or worried about you.”

Nanoha let out a quiet sob, face pressed into the crook of her mother’s neck. “I’ll be really careful,” she promised. “And I’ll contact you as often as I can-”

“No, don’t. The house will be watched, and the phone lines may be tapped.” Momoko’s voice was warning, protective. “If you need to contact us... ah, you left your mobile phone in your room. If you can pick up a new one, contact me on that, while I’m at work. Try not to use it unless it’s an emergency, though, just in case.”

“Kay...” Nanoha sniffed, rubbing tears away with the back of her hand. The movement reminded her of something, and she plucked the pink flower from behind her ear and offered it to her mother. “Here. It’s from another world. A present for you.”

Momoko took it, rolling it between her fingers for a few seconds in admiration, and then tucked it behind her own ear in emulation of the way her daughter had been wearing it. Pulling Nanoha close, she kissed her on the forehead, holding her tightly. “I’ll think of you every time I look at it,” she whispered.

“Mama...” Nanoha’s eyes teared up for a moment, as her emotions overwhelmed her. Momoko hugged her again, and then put on an interested expression, seeking to lighten the mood a little.

“So,” she asked, “can I see some of your magic? If Raising Heart is willing to help, that is.” She smiled encouragingly, tilting her head to one side and letting her hair fall down past her shoulder in a brown curtain, so similar to Nanoha’s own locks. Nanoha wiped her eyes dry again, sniffing, and then issued a watery smile.

“Sure, mama,” she agreed. She scanned round for any onlookers, then grinned. “Watch this!”

Despite the blatant displays of magical prowess she’d seen on Sunday evening, despite the fact that she had been expecting it this time, Momoko still gasped softly as the intricate circle of pink light sprang to life above Nanoha’s hand. Motes of light gathered into a pair of small, golf-ball-sized spheres above her daughter’s open palm, which silently began to orbit one another.

“Amazing...” she whispered reverently. Then looked up, expression hopeful. “Do... do you think I could learn how to do it?” she asked. Nanoha considered for a moment, before shrugging.

“I don’t see why not,” she mused. “Besides, I had to get my talent from somewhere, right? I bet you could be as good as me if you practiced!” She grinned up at her mother again. “I’ll see if I can get you anything on-”

Momoko twitched, as she felt a strange pulse from somewhere behind her. It was as if a wave of high pressure and cold air had moved through her, sending chills up her spine as it passed. The effect on Nanoha, though, was far more dramatic. She froze, pupils contracting as a violent shiver ran through her. Momoko was instantly tense, alert, scanning around for possible dangers.

“Nanoha?” she asked, worried. “What’s wrong?”

Nanoha didn’t answer for a long moment. Her eyes were glazed over, and her lips moved silently, as though she were subvocalising something to herself. Finally, she turned to Momoko, expression as tense and drawn as her mother’s.

“I have to go,” she said apologetically, in a tone that froze Momoko’s blood. “Another Jewel Seed is activating. It’s inside the city.” She turned, the necklace unfolding in a plume of white into a staff that she held in a casually familiar grip.

“Nanoha, wait!”

The girl paused, looking round curiously, and Momoko was struck suddenly by how mature her baby girl looked at that moment. Poised on the edge of rushing into combat, risking herself to save an innocent life and operating all on her own. A rush of confused emotions filled her - heartbreak, worry, pride, grief, love. She spread her arms one last time and engulfed her little girl in a loving embrace. The last, she feared, she would get to share with her youngest daughter for several months.

“I’ll tell your father and siblings what you’ve told me,” she murmured in Nanoha’s ear, and kissed her forehead gently. “I’m so proud of you, and they will be as well. Be safe, sweetheart, and don’t get hurt. I love you.”

Slender arms wrapped around her waist and returned the embrace with equal, desperate force.

“I love you too, mama. And papa, and Kyouya, and Miyuki. I always will.”

And then she slipped out of Momoko’s grasp, booted feet pounding against the ground as she ran towards battle, danger and the cause she’d taken upon herself to further. A shadowy canine form slipped out from the bushes to flank her as she left the plaza, running alongside her with long, loping strides.

Momoko watched her go, vision blurred from the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing, and could only pray that her child would be safe.

...

Breath coming in short, measured gasps between footfalls, Nanoha ran. Shops and buildings blurred past her as she ducked and dodged around pedestrians, Arf kept pace beside her with an easy canine grace. The wolf’s ears were flattened against her skull and her lips pulled back from her teeth in a silent snarl, causing flinches from those who caught a glimpse of the huge dog’s expression. The two of them drew a great many strange and curious looks as they tore down the streets at breakneck pace, but the speed they were moving at shielded them from any repercussions. By the time anyone reacted or tried to intercept the pair, they had vanished off into the distance.

Despite the pace they were setting, however, Nanoha was keenly aware that they weren’t going fast enough. She could feel the Jewel Seed ahead of her, the familiar pulse of activation and activity. More worryingly still, that wasn’t the only thing she could sense. Fainter, but still detectable, was the unmistakable sensation of magic being used.

_‘Fate-chan? Where are you?’_

The answer took a second or two to come back, and sounded strained. _‘En route. You felt it too?’_

Nanoha paled, lips tightening into a thin line. _‘Yes. But if you’re still en route... I think I’m closer, then. And I can sense other mages there!’_

Fate’s displeasure at the information was easy to feel, and Nanoha imagined she was cursing inwardly. _‘The TSAB,’_ she concluded heavily. _‘Get there as fast as you can and stop them from sealing it. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Arf, you too. We can’t let them get the Jewel Seed.’_

Nanoha nodded, and forced herself to speed up. Even as she shot towards the site of the impending battle, she was met by a wall of monochrome coming the other way.

 _‘Fate-chan!’_ she yelled in warning, as it approached. _‘They’ve put up a Barrier! You’re going to have to break in when you get here!’_

She had just enough time to process the blonde’s affirmative before the greyness hit her.

No longer constrained by the need to appear normal, pink wings sprang to life at Nanoha’s ankles as soon as the people around her vanished behind the barrier. With a glance at Arf and a leap, she was airborne, and sped up dramatically, the wolf beneath her keeping pace with effortless stamina.

Flying down the street, she approached the major junction the lightshow was coming from. The fight had apparently abandoned all attempts at hiding now that the barrier was up, and she slowed down to assess the situation first, poking her head carefully around the corner of a towering office block to scope out what was going on.

It was a good thing she did so. She drew breath sharply as she took in the sight of not only Yuuno and the TSAB boy, but five more mages she didn’t recognise. The Bureau must have called for reinforcements. They seemed harried, however, with Yuuno, the TSAB boy and four of the new mages swerving and shooting rapidly in an attempt to hit the fast-moving fifth figure at the centre of the conflict. Why were they attacking their own teammate?

It wasn’t until it turned her way that Nanoha realised it wasn’t a mage at all. It wasn’t, as she had first thought, a human in a white barrier jacket. No, the figure was pure, glowing white from head to toe, and only vaguely humanoid to start with. It had no real face, just an amorphous surface with two beads of iridescent black where eyes should be, and what Nanoha had taken to be a barrier jacket based on a nun’s habit was actually part of its body. The softly glowing robe-like folds of its body swayed and shifted as it dodged to and fro, avoiding the shots fired at it from five combatants with almost insulting ease. Nanoha frowned, considering her options. It didn’t seem to be doing much immediate damage, so the main threat on the battlefield was the Enforcer, Chrono Harlaown.

 _‘Well?’_ asked Arf softly, a silent shadow moving up beside her. _‘How are we going to enter?’_

Pulling back behind the corner, out of sight, Nanoha glanced down at the wolf. _‘Can you try and hold the Harlaown boy in a bind long enough for me to hit him with a Divine Buster?’_ she asked. She had a feeling the answer would be ‘no’, and was proven right as Arf shook her head with a soft growl.

_‘The ferret would break it before you finished charging up. But if you pretend to aim for the Jewel Seed, I can protect you while you charge up, and then hold him for a few seconds if you switch targets at the last second.’_

Nanoha grinned. _‘Hey, that’s a good plan!’_ She threw an impressed look at the wolf-familiar. _‘You two are really good at this.’_

Arf preened. _‘Naturally,’_ she replied with a hint of smugness. _‘Now you start charging up that bombardment spell, and I’ll hold them off you while you do. I owe him some payback for hurting Fate-chan.’_

Nanoha nodded, and stepped out quietly from behind the building she was using as cover. To her dismay, she found that Yuuno had managed to get a bind on the thing’s arms while she’d been talking. It hadn’t stopped it, but it was dodging less quickly now, and he appeared to be readying another. Planting one foot forward, she directed Raising Heart towards her target and prompted the Device to begin drawing power from her Linker Core. Three rings of pink light expanded forward from the tip of the spear, forming a firing barrel longer than its wielder was tall, and a crackling ball of energy began to form within it.

 _‘Arf-chan,’_ she called urgently, _‘Change of plans! We need to seal it before they do! Shooting the Enforcer can come later, we need that Jewel Seed! Try to hold everyone back from it with barriers once it’s sealed so that I can get it!’_ A snarl was her only response, but she had to trust that her partner would do her part. From the corner of her eye, as she focused on the mathematics for the building bombardment spell, she caught sight of the blue-haired boy with his own Device in Sealing Mode as Yuuno’s chains finally snared their mutual target, building up power for another sealing spell.

“Divine...” she called out, and the new, harassed-looking mages finally seemed to notice her, two of them turning and making a beeline towards her as the other two - one with a staff that bore a passing resemblance to Raising Heart’s shooting mode, the other with what looked like pistols - took up firing positions with their weapons trained on her.

Gritting her teeth, Nanoha prepared to release her spell, praying that Arf would protect her from the four-way incoming assault. Orange barriers sprang into place around her, and she sighed in relief at the timely intervention as she finished her incantation.

“... BUSTER!”

And then three things happened almost simultaneously.

A gold-streaked comet hurtled across the battlefield fast enough to make the air shriek at its passage, four electric shots blazing out from it to slam into the four mages converging on Nanoha and two more flaring like miniature suns as they broke against the Enforcer’s shields.

The tree-sized beam of pink light erupted from Raising Heart’s tip, roaring towards the Jewel Seed like an unstoppable juggernaut even as a deep blue beam, pencil-thin but terrifyingly concentrated, emerged from the strange Device that the Enforcer held.

And around their mutual target, the shining white figure wrapped and bound in glowing green chains, the world... changed. Colour leached back into the monochrome tones of the barrier, and vague, hazy silhouettes appeared around it for several yards - figures from the other side of the barrier, visible through the suddenly thin boundary between them and a deadly battleground. The bright green chains that held the Jewel Seed creature in place dulled with terrifying speed, fraying and dissipating until it was held by mere wires, so dim as to be almost invisible.

With a twist and a jerk, it was free. And in the fraction of a second before the beams hit it, everyone on the battlefield watched as the space around it briefly solidified, the colours and texture of the real world pushing themselves fully formed into the dimensional barrier.

And then, as if it had never been there at all, it and the zone of colour and reality were gone.

The spells smashed together in an explosion that turned two traffic lights and a five metre stretch of road into slag, but it was obvious as the smoke cleared that they had been too late. There was no floating blue gem where the sealing spells had met, no trace of a shining white figure, nothing at all except air and smoke.

There was only one conclusion to draw. Despite the absurdity of ducking a dimensional barrier while bound and chained, the impossible had happened.

The Jewel Seed had escaped.

...

The barrier had failed.

Nanoha shook as she considered the ramifications, frozen to the spot as she stared at the spot where the shining figure had been. If the Jewel Seeds could learn to do that... this one was harmless, but what if the next one managed it as well? What it was as destructive as the icy spheres that had ripped chunks out of reality, or the vines that had eaten and drained everything they touched? What if...

She was broken off from her horrified train of thought by a furious shout from the other side of the road.

“What are you all standing around for?” Harlaown roared. “It’s getting away! Scrya, take down the barrier! Lanster, you and your team hold off the hostiles! We need to pin it down and seal it before it can do any damage!” Suiting word to action, he dived towards the ground, landing just as the barrier rippled and vanished, bringing colour back into the world. The sudden appearance of seven strangely dressed people at a busy junction would undoubtedly have drawn attention, had it not all been directed down the road, where an androgynous figure in glowing white robes leapt from car to car with a few grace that belied the speed and force behind its movements.

The young Enforcer’s instructions weren’t to go according to plan, however. Black-clad and deadly serious, Fate appeared in front of Nanoha and Arf in a crackling golden nimbus. “You two go after the Seed,” she ordered. “I’ll hold off these four.”

“Fate...” Nanoha baulked at leaving her to face four-to-one odds. “Are you-”

“I’m sure! Go!” The blonde was already moving, blurring towards the nearest of the TSAB mages - a girl armed with a sword whose blade of dark green energy looked similar to that of Bardiche’s scythe form, and a small metal bracer with a glowing disk of similarly coloured light emanating from the edges that turned it into a shield. Apparently uncaring of the non-magical witnesses, Fate slashed down with Bardiche, bringing the curved scythe blade down over the top of the shield to seek the woman’s shoulder.

Nanoha didn’t see the result. Spurred on by Fate’s shout, she bolted after the Jewel Seed, using the still-active Flier Fins on her ankles to increase her speed far beyond what she should have been capable of. She couldn’t fly, not with so many people around - energy weapons and a strange-looking humanoid figure they might write off as some sort of movie stunt, but a flying girl would be far too visible, arouse far too much suspicion. Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t skim along at ground level while pretending to run.

Fast as she was, though, the Jewel Seed was faster. And she wasn’t alone. Arf kept pace beside her - the wolf could move astonishingly fast, she realised, probably a consequence of keeping up with her master. On the other side of the street, though, the dark-clad boy that had fired at her home was bent on the same goal as her. Yuuno was there too - and for the first time, she saw his human form in person. Sandy hair, a tan and green barrier jacket, carrying a simple-looking staff Device she’d never seen before... he looked nice. Friendly. Someone she would have trusted to be...

She tore her thoughts away from him, focusing on the Jewel Seed. She couldn’t afford to get distracted now. And despite her Flier Fin-aided acceleration, she could only move so fast while limited to ground level. The creature was getting away, hopping from car to car to speed its passage even further.

She would need to get creative to solve this.

Glancing up as she ran, she took in the sky. It was cloudy and overcast, though not really obscured enough for what she wanted. Still, any cover up there was better than none, and she could think of no other way to catch up to her quarry. Worse still, the Enforcer seemed to have an edge on her in speed. He was pulling ahead already, and slowly beginning to close the distance between him and the Jewel Seed.

Ahead of them, tyres squealed on tarmac as the creature leaned down to peer through the windscreen of the car it was standing on. As the vehicle screeched sideways, it leapt, and caught itself precariously on the edge of a lorry heading at a right angle to its original direction. Barely keeping its grip, the thing was visible dangling from its firm hold on the roof for a brief second before disappearing around a corner.

Faced with no other alternative, Nanoha put her plan into action. Ducking into the next side street she came to, she glanced around quickly. There were still people in sight. But not as many as on the main road she had been pelting down. She was about to go ahead with her hastily composed idea, when she realised with a chill of dread that she _recognised_ two of the people on this street. Two girls; one blonde, the other purple-haired, staring at her in almost as much shock as she was staring at them with.

It would have to wait. Sending them a silent look that promised explanation later, she forced as much mana to her Flier Fins as she could, redirected her direction of travel and accelerated as hard and fast as she could.

Straight upwards.

Shooting towards the heavens like an arrow from a bow, she felt her visor slide over her eyes at a mental prompt. The floors of the skyscrapers around her blurred past as she ascended, until finally the rooftops fell away from her and she was left in the clear skies. And still, she rose.

 _‘Nanoha-chan?’_ Arf sounded alarmed, and Nanoha hurried to reassure her.

_‘It’s okay, Arf-chan. I’ve had an idea for how I can catch up. Can you try to slow Harlaown and Yuuno-kun down as much as possible for me?’_

The familiar answered without a trace of hesitation at facing two-to-one odds. _‘I’ll do the best I can,’_ she promised. _‘Move fast, I don’t trust that thing not to hurt someone soon.’_

Nanoha nodded to herself - a meaningless gesture, at her current height above the city streets - and levelled off her ascent. From here, hundreds of metres above the ground, she could see the maze of roads laid out like a map below her. With the aid of her visor, she could see the raging battle between Fate and the four TSAB mages that had risen to some of the lower rooftops, and identify the fast-moving blob that was the Enforcer, dodging and firing at a red-orange tormentor that didn’t let him turn his back on her for a second.

And, more importantly, she could see the glowing white figure - a blazing, obvious target in her HUD display due to the amount of mana pouring off it - that was running ahead of them. And it was a clear, straight line from her to it. All she had to do was angle that way slightly, and...

… fall.

...

Fate ducked under the arc of a glowing energy sword and deflected two needle-like bolts of deep purple light with Bardiche. An orange bullet followed them closely, and rather than try to block it she sprang out of the way onto the next rooftop, an Arc Saber lashing out towards its origin. The pistol-user was the only one of her opponents who could fly, and he used it as the spinning scythe blade whirred towards him like a crackling boomerang, skimming backwards in a curving evasion pattern. The evasion allowed the blade to pass harmlessly by him, and he paid for it when the spinning attack abruptly reversed direction like the boomerang it appeared to be and slammed into him from behind.

That should have bought her a little time. He was easily the most powerful of the four, one of whom she had already left winded and gasping for air on a rooftop several blocks behind her. Now she had about five seconds to do as much damage as she could to his two subordinates.

The swordswoman was closest, and she was ill suited for the role she was trying to play. A Kabupatenic user, Fate identified, using a style heavy on energy weapons and use of ambient mana sources. The woman - still a girl, really, only five or six years older than Fate herself - was probably soaking up vast quantities of the mana that the Jewel Seed was throwing out. But simply throwing more power at the problem wasn’t enough to beat someone who outclassed you in both skill and speed. And Fate was easily the girl’s superior in both. Hooking Bardiche’s blade around the girl’s sword, low enough that the metal interior that generated the crackling green blade was beneath Bardiche’s edge, she switched her polearm to axe form.

Instantly, the scythe blade vanished, and the head ratcheted round. And just as Fate had intended, the movement caught the girl’s own weapon between the axe head and the haft. With one foot planted back, Fate twisted and _wrenched_ , sending the sword clattering across the rooftop and over the side, energy blade deactivating as it fell.

And then she continued the pirouette, turning it into a spinning kick that sent the green-haired girl sprawling.

“Mei!” came a frantic cry from one of the buildings across the street, and Fate’s attention snapped to it. The second ranged mage, the one with the staff Device, had been playing clever up until now. Keeping well away from her young opponent, and apparently lacking the flight skills of her superior, she had been content to change position quickly and often, peppering Fate with needle-like shots from stealth whenever she got the chance.

But now Fate knew where she was.

A Blitz Action took her across the gulf that separated the two buildings, cars whizzing past far below, and she appeared on a slanted roof scattered with skylights into the open-plan office below. A barrage of needle-like purple darts homed in on her from behind a smokestack, and she threw herself into another Blitz Action, flashing past the last-ditch attack with contemptuous ease and appearing with blinding speed barely a metre behind the pale platinum-blonde. Last time she had done this, it was to Nanoha, and she had fired three full-powered Photon Lancers into the girl’s undefended back as her Barrier Jacket struggled to regenerate from the damage her first shot had done. A carefully modulated attack, calculated to take her out with just enough force to leave her in hospital without doing her any long-lasting damage.

This girl’s Barrier Jacket was at full strength. And Fate didn’t feel nearly as sympathetic towards her.

[Photon Barret,] announced Bardiche, and the wave of electric yellow took the woman at point blank range and hurled her, singed and smoking, across the roof. She bounced twice like a rag doll, struck the smokestack opposite to the one she had been hiding behind with an audible thud, and came to rest. Groaning, she tried weakly to get up, but her arms failed to support her weight, and she collapsed back down into a heap with a twitch of pain.

But Fate had no time to rest and recuperate from her exertions. A hail of orange bullets scythed in, forcing her to hastily raise a shield to block them all, as the leader of the team returned. And from his expression, and the violence with which he fired off shots from his twin pistols, it seemed as though he was angry about her treatment of his squad.

Squaring her shoulders and reaffirming her grip on Bardiche, Fate leapt back into the fray.

...

Fate wasn’t the only one re-entering battle. Far above the barrage of shots she began to trade with her sole remaining opponent, the wind whistled through Nanoha’s ears as she pushed herself faster and faster downwards. Freefall was nowhere near enough speed for what she needed to do - this tactic required the virtue of complete and utter surprise.

Perched on the back of a lorry, the shining, humanoid creature formed from light and magic extended its senses. Its face was little more than decoration, it didn’t use the bead-like markings on the front of its head for sight, and so it barely moved as it examined the world around it. Curiosity would perhaps be the wrong word to describe its attitude to the strange and novel information it received about its surroundings, but it was certainly paying rapt attention to the influx of new data, an experience the artefact at its core hadn’t been exposed to for thousands of years.

Coupled with the fact that it had left the hostile magic-users far behind some minutes ago, it could perhaps be forgiven for not noticing the rapidly approaching threat until it was too late.

Like a pink-wreathed meteor from the heavens, haloed by a near-tangible aura of magic and with her staff drawn back over her shoulder like a baseball player aiming to hit a home run, Nanoha plummeted down from above. The impact as the blazing head of Raising Heart struck the creature in a horizontal swing just below the chin with every ounce of her momentum behind it could be likened to a blow from the hammer of god.

Limp as a rag doll, the shining figure was flung from the lorry, turning slowly end over end as it flew on a parabolic arc through the air. An arc that was cruelly and bluntly terminated by the steel support for a high-rise glass and metal office block. The force of the impact broke every window within five metres on the building’s front, and the motionless form fell half a dozen metres to the ground, and lay still.

Pink aura still burning around her too brightly for her face or figure to be seen, Nanoha kicked off from the now-severely-dented lorry, floating over to the pavement the Jewel Seed creature lay on. It was still active, and she could see the currents of white material flowing back together, repairing the wound she had dealt it and patching itself up for another escape attempt. It would not remain a stationary target for long.

Ignoring the screams that were finally starting to pick up as the surrounding bystanders began to get over their shock and flee the destruction and carnage, paying no heed to the cars slowing down on the road behind her as their drivers gawked at the spectacle playing out in broad daylight, Nanoha walked over to the still-healing body the Jewel Seed had manifested and levelled Raising Heart at it.

“Enough,” she said tiredly, “Raising Heart, activate Sealing Mode please.”

[Alright, my master,] agreed the Device.

And glowing bands of blue and green light encircled Nanoha’s wrists and legs, pulling her hands to her sides and her feet together even as further chains wrapped around her body, anchoring her to the ground. She squeaked in surprise and outrage, fighting to get loose, but the bindings were like solid iron. Her struggles didn’t shift them a millimetre.

Passing less than a metre from her side, a pencil-thin beam of dark blue light from somewhere behind her speared into the prone form, sending it into wracking convulsions that gradually increased in frequency. As the humanoid figure spasmed, flakes of light drifted off it, leaving it dimmer and smaller. The dissipation increased in speed and severity until, after barely ten seconds, there was nothing left of the figure but a softly glowing blue gemstone where its heart had been.

Nanoha strained as hard as she could against the chains, but to no avail. The Enforcer darted past her, unrestricted and unencumbered, and almost laconically swept his staff out. With a faint tone that sounded like a tuning fork being rung, the Jewel Seed vanished into the Device’s core. Robbed of her goal and captured by the enemy, Nanoha sagged. Fate had trusted her to get the Jewel Seed - had taken on four-to-one odds to let her do so.

And she had failed.

A second figure came into view, stepping quietly around her and turning to face her. Yuuno wore a complex expression, a mixture of emotions that Nanoha couldn’t quite make out. Affection was there - like she did him, he still obviously considered her a friend. Sorrow was another one, and guilt at fighting against her. There were yet more, deeper still, but the girl didn’t focus on dissecting them. Her blue eyes bored into his, her expression a similarly layered one of hurt, betrayal and loss. For a few seconds, they stared at one another, neither able to start. Yuuno was the first to speak.

“Nanoha...” he began, voice cracking slightly. “I- I’m sorry. But you have to know... Precia is manipulating you, can’t you see? She’s not a good person, Nanoha, however nice she might seem... you need to-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she interrupted, voice filled with hurt. “Why did you never tell me that you were human? That you were sending messages out to the TSAB? That... how much did you not tell me? Why? Precia is honest with me, she’s a good person! What were you doing? I don’t believe you’re bad, Yuuno-kun, you’d never hurt me, but... why lie to me? Even by omission?”

Yuuno almost staggered backward from the girl’s words. It seemed that even under a binding spell, she could still attack. Nonetheless, well aware of Chrono’s eyes narrowing as the Enforcer drew breath to speak, he cut in before the other boy could get started.

“Nanoha, I swear, I didn’t-”

Whatever he was intending to say, however, was not to be revealed. With a howl of rage that echoed down the street, 65 kilograms of furious wolf familiar took the boy in the chest, driving him back against the pavement and discharging a point-black Photon Lancer into his chest. The combined impacts winded him to the point of leaving him gasping for breath and struggling to see as Arf leapt off him to attack the blue-haired Enforcer, chains and bindings falling off Nanoha as his control dissolved.

“Arf, no!” yelled Nanoha, “don’t attack him, we have to run! They’ve got the Jewel Seed, there’s no point in us staying now!”

Snarling, Arf ignored her. Shifting back to her human form, she hammered on the barrier that her enemy held between them, advancing as he retreated, not giving him an opportunity to counterattack without dropping the shield and risking a hit.

“Arf!” screamed Nanoha again, searching for a way - any way - to get the berserk wolf-woman to disengage. Only one option presented itself, and she took it without hesitation. “We have to go and help Fate-chan! Come _on!_ ”

It worked. Barely. Eyes feral, teeth bared, Arf drew back from the boy and leapt back to stand next to Nanoha. For a tense instant, Chrono stood across from them, his only ally still wheezing on the ground, and considered his chances of stopping them from escaping. Two or three seconds of silent staredown seemed to take an eternity to pass.

He decided. Turning to help Yuuno, he hauled the other boy up as the girl and wolf vanished down a sidestreet, their footsteps fast retreating from the scene as sirens began to wail in the distance. He nodded grimly, taking their example as one to follow. It was time to leave.

Picking a path that would get him back to approximately the area he thought the backup squad should be, he began to half drag, half carry his gasping companion away.

...

Arisa and Suzuka had been looking for Nanoha. When the latter had rushed up to her blonde friend in a state of agitation and spilled out a recount of having met the mysterious girl that seemed to have sparked much of her odd behaviour recently, Arisa had wasted no time in dragging her out to search for either of them.

Suzuka hadn’t expected it to actually work. She had gone along with it out of worry, and a need to be doing _something_ , even if it wasn’t likely to be very effective. Both of them were still a little angry at Nanoha, but their friend’s abrupt disappearance from school had buried the animosity under concern. It hadn’t helped that when they had dropped in on her home to see if she had fallen sick, they had found holes the size of tennis balls punched through the walls around the front door and a lawn strewn with broken glass from a shattered window. Nanoha, her mother had told them, was missing, and there were no real signs as to where she might have gone or what had happened.

Sick with fear for the brown-haired girl, Arisa and Suzuka had returned to their homes to toss and turn, anxiously going over possibilities that seemed to get worse with every new image and waiting for any news. When Suzuka had caught the strangely dressed girl hanging around the edge of her home, she had made the connection in seconds. The only other person she’d seen in such odd clothing had been the orange-haired woman who had first spoken of her, and she met Nanoha’s scant description to a tee.

But apart from a few vague reassurances that Nanoha was alright, wherever she was, the girl had refused to tell her anything. And then she had somehow pulled free, with inhuman strength and speed, and vanished around a corner. Suzuka couldn’t imagine how she could have hidden on the open street, and she hadn’t been out of sight for nearly long enough to disappear into the distance, but by the time Suzuka had rounded the corner in pursuit, she was gone. Distraught, she had sought out Arisa and told her everything, then tagged along as the fiery blonde had gone in search of Nanoha in the city, as if they might run across her by chance on the street.

Except they had. In strange, impossible circumstances, to boot. Their mutual friend had seemed different, focused on something they could only guess at. Darting into the side street they had been walking down from the main road it fed into, she had run past them at far greater speed than a nine-year old should have been able to move at, looking around hurriedly before then shooting straight upwards as if on wires.

Wires which had been conspicuously absent, as had anything they could be hung from. It had looked like some sort of special effects stunt, but it had been real. Their friend, impossibly, had flown.

Her clothes had been weird, too. Similar to her school uniform, but subtly different. And the staff she held was one that neither girl had ever seen before. Not to mention the wings of pink light at her feet. No, something was obviously going on, and Arisa was vocal in their need to find out what it was.

There were, unfortunately, a few rather obvious obstacles to this goal. Chief among them being the pronounced absence of their friend, which was something of a barrier to questioning her. That line of approach rendered impossible, they had settled on hurrying in the direction Nanoha had been running in before darting into their side-road, hoping they might find something, or catch up to her.

All that had succeeded at was getting them thoroughly lost.

Having settled outside a café, the pair were now going over what they knew, mailing down each point they were certain about and trying to fit them together into some sort of wider picture. Nanoha had been acting strangely for months, they agreed. The blonde girl Suzuka had met was probably involved with it somehow. She had been sneaking off at odd times for unknown reasons, probably for as long as she had been acting strangely, and often coming back injured.

And now, after her abrupt disappearance a few days ago, they found that she could apparently fly. This fact was given due attention, in conjunction with the others they had, and a conclusion was drawn over two cups of green tea.

“Argh!” exclaimed Arisa in frustration, setting her cup down with rather more force than was perhaps necessary, slopping liquid onto the table. “This doesn’t make any _sense!_ What’s going on with her? What’s going on with _all_ of this?”

“Um…” a familiar voice interjected into the conversation, “I… think maybe I can help with that.”

Two heads swivelled with whiplash speed towards the source, and their owners gasped as they found it. Looking somewhat the worse for wear, with wind-ruffled hair and a few small singe marks on the white dress, the subject of their shared frustration stood before them, scuffing a booted foot against the pavement and twisting a lock of hair around her finger.

It did not escape their attention that the hand she was using to do so wore an armoured gauntlet. The staff from earlier, though, seemed to be missing. Suzuka’s hand snapped out like a whip to grab Arisa on the shoulder, holding her back before she could explode. It was how the expressive girl showed she cared, but right now Suzuka suspected the attention it would draw was the last thing they needed. Going by Nanoha’s grateful expression, the brunette felt much the same way.

“Alright,” she said levelly, feeling Arisa silently vibrating beside her with the suppressed desire to grab Nanoha and shake her until they got some answers. Suzuka fought down a similar urge herself. Barely. She gave Arisa’s shoulder another squeeze to warn her not to shout, and nodded at one of the empty chairs between them. “Why don’t you sit down and tell us what’s going on, then?” she invited, with a firm look at Nanoha that clearly stated it wasn’t an optional request. Wincing slightly, the white-clad girl did as she was told.

“I… guess I have a lot to explain,” she started. Arisa glared at her.

“Damn right you do!” she scowled indignantly, ignoring Suzuka’s gasp at her language, “Where’ve you been for the past two days? How did you do…” she glanced left and right, lowering her voice to a whisper, “ _you-know-what?_ Since when have you been able to do stuff like that?”

Nanoha winced, a blush rising on her cheeks. “You… saw that?” she asked meekly, biting her lip. Suzuka favoured her with a flat look.

“You flew. Straight upwards. In broad daylight, on a street with people on it. Quite a lot of people saw it, Nanoha-chan.”

Nanoha cringed, hanging her head in mortification. “Ahh…” she moaned, “Yuuno-kun is going to be mad at me…” She paused, frowning slightly, then scowled. “Though… hmph,” she sniffed, “he has no right to be mad at _me_. Stupid little…”

“Um,” Suzuka interrupted before she could start muttering to herself, “sorry, did you say… Yuuno-kun? As in… your ferret?” She glanced at Arisa, who seemed similarly confused, her earlier frustration replaced by bafflement.

Nanoha glanced up, taking in their puzzled expressions, and shook her head. “Ah… no, I… oh, I’m doing this all wrong. Um… basically… I’m a magical girl.”

Silence met this declaration, stretching on for several long seconds. “It’s true!” she protested, “really! You saw me flying, what more proof do you need?”

“I… um…” began Arisa, and stopped. “Huh. You’ve… actually got a pretty good point there. I’d like to say I don’t believe you, but…” she glanced upwards, remembering the sight of Nanoha’s pink-wreathed figure rising vertically upwards like a guided missile.

“Right!” chirped Nanoha triumphantly, happy to have won that point. Her pleased expression crumpled as Suzuka cut her off before she could continue.

“If that’s true, Nanoha-chan… why didn’t you tell us before?”

“Yeah,” interjected Arisa, a hurt look forming, “why keep it secret? Heck, you almost lied to us a few times. We asked you loads of times what was happening, why did you refuse to tell us?”

“I…” stuttered Nanoha, face paling. “I didn’t…”

“We were so worried when you got hurt,” said Suzuka softly, words cutting like a knife. “And the way we didn’t know how it had happened, what was wrong.”

Nanoha hung her head in shame and guilt, unable to give them an answer. After a few seconds, she looked up, tears brimming in her eyes.

“I… I’m sorry,” she apologised, lamely. “I didn’t… I wanted to tell you. Please, _please_ believe me, I _wanted_ to tell you. But I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Arisa seemed more curious than angry now, toying with the cup on the table in front of her.

“Yuuno-kun… he’s magical, too. He’s smart – he can talk, telepathically, and everything. He’s the one who introduced me to magic, before…” Nanoha’s expression dimmed even further, and her shoulders sagged. With a sigh, she continued. “Anyway, he said that really bad things would happen if I let anyone know about magic. That its discovery could cause a disaster.”

“And you didn’t think we would keep it a secret?” Arisa scolded, offended. She began to rise, half-standing as she reacted to the perceived slight. “If you’d explained things and told us that, of course we wouldn’t have told anyone! Don’t you trust us? Why-”

Suzuka grabbed her by the arm again and pulled her back down into her seat. Across the table, Nanoha looked almost ready to cry. “N-no,” she stuttered, “of course I trust you! B-but… I didn’t want you getting hurt, either, and I was so confused… I’m really sorry! Please, please forgive me!”

Arisa’s angry features softened, and she sighed, closing her eyes as she let out a calming breath. Shuffling her chair around the table, she hugged her friend, pulling her half out of her seat into the embrace.

“Of course we forgive you,” she muttered, “dummy. We’re not going to hate you just for one mistake.” On the other side of Nanoha, Suzuka joined the hug, sandwiching the young mage between her two friends.

“Forgiven,” she smiled simply, “forgotten. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Nanoha sniffed, happy tears trickling down her face at the forgiveness, and nodded happily. “I won’t,” she promised. “And on that note… um… I kind of…” she paused, tilting her head. Her eyes glazed over slightly for a second, and she nodded again quietly before seeming to come back to herself.

“Okay,” she began again, “I need to go soon, so I’ll be quick. Basically, as a magical girl, I’ve been collecting these dangerous things called Jewel Seeds with Yuuno-kun, who came here to stop them hurting anybody. There was another mage – the blonde girl, Fate-chan – who was also trying to collect them, and… uh… we kind of had a few small disagreements.”

Arisa and Suzuka traded looks. What Nanoha called ‘small disagreements’, others would refer to as full-contact brawling matches. The blonde still remembered her friend’s violent reaction to the bullying behaviour she had shown when they first met.

“But!” Nanoha continued, speaking quickly and not giving them a chance to interrupt, “Fate-chan managed to explain her reasons for gathering them, and it turns out she’s actually doing it for a really good reason, so I’m working with her now. Only Yuuno-kun called for help, and wasn’t telling me a lot of things, and so this organisation called the TSAB has turned up and is trying to stop Fate-chan and her mother from… well, from doing the good thing they want to do with them.”

“Which is?” Suzuka asked curiously. Nanoha shook her head, expression serious.

“Not my secret to tell,” she explained. “And I’d be putting them in danger if I did. But it’s good, I promise. They’re trying to save someone, and the TSAB are trying to stop them. The TSAB are bad. They call their policemen ‘Enforcers’ and they wear black and have spikes on their shoulders.” She frowned. “And Yuuno-kun, too. I thought… I _thought_ he was my friend. But he was fighting against me today. And I lost the Jewel Seed to them...”

“Nanoha,” came a soft call from nearby, and all three girls turned to see the tall, orange-haired woman they had first encountered at the hot springs, looking agitated. “Come on, we need to get out of the open,” she urged. Nanoha turned apologetically back to her friends.

“That’s Arf-chan,” she explained quickly. “She’s Fate-chan’s familiar. Um… yes, so the TSAB sort of attacked me and Fate-chan at my house, so I can’t go back there or they’ll try and capture me, but once Fate-chan and her mother have done the good thing they’re trying to do, the TSAB will probably go away and I’ll be able to come back. So I’ll just be lying low for a while and helping them, and then be back in a few months. And I promise I’ll stay in touch! You can ask mama if you want to know more, she knows a lot of it. Just tell her that I told you, and she’ll explain everything.” She glanced again at the woman, who was growing increasingly more impatient. Judging her to be on the verge of storming over and physically dragging Nanoha off by her collar, she gave both girls a quick, final hug.

“I really missed you,” she mumbled, and they closed the circle to hug her back, tightly. For a moment, it seemed just like old times at school, the three of them together and nothing wrong with the world.

Then her armoured gauntlets rested on their shoulders as she pulled back to give them an earnest look, and the gulf that had grown between them widened fractionally further. It wasn’t marred by uncertainty any longer, the clear wind of the explanation had dispersed the fog that had been veiling it. But it was still unarguably there.

“I _will_ miss you,” she promised. Suzuka squeezed her hand, and Arisa met her gaze squarely.

“We’ll miss you, too,” she said. “And be worried about you, every day. So don’t you _dare_ get hurt, you hear?” Nanoha half-laughed, half-sobbed, and nodded in acknowledgement. Arisa furiously swiped the back of her hand across her face to clear the tears misting her vision. “And come back soon, okay?” she added. “Keep in touch, too!”

Suzuka smiled tremulously, voice wavering. “Good luck,” she said softly. “I hope you manage to save whoever it is. And… be safe.”

And with a single, last, tearful promise to do as they said, Nanoha turned on a booted heel and was gone, quick footsteps petering away into the distance alongside those of the taller woman beside her.

…

It was a strange experience, returning to the penthouse suite that Fate and Arf occupied. Nanoha almost didn’t believe where she was – she had been here previously, of course, but she had been half in shock at that point, barely cognisant of her surroundings. As with the trip through dimensions, it was a completely different experience in the light of day. She marvelled at the sheer _expense_ of the place as they alighted on the roof and cracked open an access hatch to drop onto the floor below.

“Fate-chan?” Nanoha called nervously, as Arf shrank down into the lupine form and made a beeline for the kitchen, crouching low in an apparent attempt to avoid being seen. The rapidly wagging tail that stuck up past the top of the couch was something of a deterrent to that goal, but Nanoha decided against pointing that out to the familiar. Instead, she took a few tentative steps further into the apartment.

“Fate-chan?” she called again, uncertainly. The other mage had said she was en route back to the penthouse when she had contacted Nanoha telepathically. Had she been delayed by something?

A door slid open to her left, and something warm and furry impacted her ankles, curling around them and rumbling quietly.

“Mraa!” came an insistent demand for attention from floor level, “Mraa!”

Eyes widening, Nanoha crouched down to stroke the little grey-and-black kitten, tickling her under the chin. “You again…” she breathed softly, a smile spreading on her face as the tiny creature’s purrs amplified at the petting. “Vesta, your name was, wasn’t it?” She looked up at Fate, standing in the open doorway, in confusion.

“You were homesick, on the Garden,” the blonde explained quietly. “And you were missing your family and friends. I thought… whenever I was sad, when I was training, I’d always hug Arf, and feel a little bit better. So I thought that maybe if I got you a pet to hug and play with, you’d be happier.” She smiled, a little shyly. “And I remembered that you seemed to like her, and that she seemed to like you, so I thought I’d bring her over to cheer you up.” Her shy expression faltered slightly as Vesta hissed at her, spine arching and tail fluffing up.

Nanoha blinked in surprise. The gesture was incredibly sweet. It also raised more than a few rather concerning questions, like whether Suzuka was actually aware of the loan of her pet – and Vesta’s behaviour towards the girl suggested that her departure from the Tsukimura household hadn’t been voluntary – but she decided to put those off until a little later. For now, she rose to her feet – to a protesting mewl from the kitten that had been enjoying the attention lavished on her until then – and quickly crossed the distance between her and the blonde mage, folding her into a hug.

“Thank you, Fate-chan,” she whispered sincerely, and felt the girl blush, embarrassed.

Disengaging, she bent down to scoop up the kitten that was pawing at her ankle, demanding her attention again, and turned in the direction of the kitchen. “Come on, Vesta-chan!” she cooed happily to the little feline. “Let’s make you up a bed where it’s warm, and get you some food before Arf-chan eats it all!”

“Wait, Arf’s in the kitchen again?” Fate exclaimed from behind her, and bolted ahead of her towards the delighted sounds emerging from behind the closed door. “Arf! Get out of the ramen supplies! You’re supposed to be rationing them!”

Giggling delightedly, her new pet cradled in her arms, Nanoha followed.

…


	8. Chapter Seven

‘Dear Mama,’

Nanoha Takamachi considered the words on the screen of the slim mobile phone, the blinking cursor to their right waiting for her to continue. Chewing on her lip idly, her fingers danced over the keypad as she continued the text.

‘I’m sorry it’s taken so long to write to you, but you did say to keep contact infrequent.’

It had, in fact, been almost two weeks since she had left her mother in the small public garden to fight a Jewel Seed. Two weeks of living with Fate and Arf in a high-rise penthouse suite, sneaking out to search the region for the Lost Logia in shifts and trying their best to avoid anything the TSAB cruiser in orbit might notice.

On the latter count, they had apparently been successful, as they hadn’t seen any of the foreign mages since the fight. Still, Fate remained wary of them, and Nanoha followed her lead, trusting her judgement on the matter.

It would not, however, be a good idea to detail this to her mother, who was probably worrying more than enough anyway.

‘I have been fine, and Fate-chan and Arf-chan are both very nice. I have been keeping busy and helping them with their mission.’

The patrols were, once she had got used to them, actually fairly dull. Fly over the next square of the grid. At night, since she still couldn’t go out looking like herself during the day, what with being a missing person and all. Search it for any dormant power sources that matched the Jewel Seeds. Fail to find any. Go back to the penthouse. Mark the square off on the big map in the office. It had been fun for the first two squares she searched, feeling like a secret agent conducting a mission of massive importance.

By the fourth or fifth, however, it was just dull. She couldn’t even daydream or bring something to read, either. The scans, while repetitive, demanded her full attention. At least it wasn’t cold. Her Barrier Jacket kept her protected from more than just physical violence – a fact for which she was profoundly grateful, given the night-time temperatures several hundred feet up. But the boredom was a constant companion.

She briefly wondered if it would be okay to draw a smiley face in the grid square for the next bit of searching, before discarding the idea. She was supposed to be being mature and grown-up.

‘I’ve been out and about once or twice, in disguise, but mostly I’m staying hidden.’ Raising Heart was able to maintain a basic illusion that changed her appearance enough that she wasn’t recognisable, and one of the first things she had done the day after meeting her mother had been to go out as a little black-haired girl and buy the mobile she was currently using. Still, Fate had asked her to stay inside the penthouse as much as possible during daylight hours. Her disappearance had thrown up something of a furore, and there was still a police hunt scouring the area for her.

‘Precia-san suggested that it might be a good idea for me to make my own Familiar. I’m not so sure. Fate-chan says that a Familiar is for life, not just for Christmas, and I'm not sure if I'm ready for such a big comit...’ she paused, frowning, and managed to find the correct automatic completion of the word on her second attempt, ‘commitment.’

She paused, considering. ‘Well,’ she amended, ‘she didn't actually say that. That was just how the translation put it.’ She flexed her fingers absently. It had been a surprise, and a rather unpleasant one at that, to find that the two of them couldn't even talk to each other without their Devices. Fate's language, which translated as 'Mid-Standard', was completely unlike Japanese, and the other girl didn’t know any of Nanoha’s mother tongue herself. Arf had picked up a basic knowledge of it – easily enough to get by – but she made for a poor translator compared to Raising Heart and Bardiche. It made talking in the absence of the Devices awkward, to say the least.

‘Anyway, Precia-san says that it would be a major asset if I did, so I’m studying the spell and thinking about it. I’ve been learning a lot of magic, which is really fun, and I'm getting really good at it (though not as good as Fate-chan).’

The magic had been one of the best parts of the past fortnight, in fact. Stuck in the admittedly luxurious penthouse all day, Nanoha had been left with nothing else to do but practice magic. She spared a little time to try cooking, and had proudly presented Fate and Arf with carefully made meals once or twice, but she mainly just learnt.

And learnt. And learnt. She had blown through the first few beginner books in less than a day, trivially accomplishing the basic control exercises on her first try. Hovering balls of light to help with reading, simple projections cupped in the palm of her hands… none of them gave her more than a minute’s trouble before she had them mastered.

It was a wonderful experience, the knowledge soaking into her like a cool balm and soothing an itch she’d never even known existed before she’d discovered magic. Currently, she was halfway through a more advanced text on movement magic, which she was devouring with speed born of gleeful enthusiasm.

Lying on her stomach on the couch with her arms propping her up as she typed, the rays of the evening sun slanted through the huge window that took up the whole of one wall to wash over the brown-haired girl. She idly kicked her feet in the air, pondering what else she could tell her mother and looking over what she had written. A mewl from the side of the sofa gave her fresh inspiration, even as a small weight clambered up onto the couch and onto her back. She giggled at the ticklish, uncomfortable feeling of small paws resting the kitten’s weight on her, and tilted her head back.

“Vesta-chan,” she mock-scolded, “stop pacing about back there and sit still, you’re tickling me!”

“Mraa!” responded her pet, but obeyed her request, curling up in a ball on the small of Nanoha’s back and quietly starting to purr. Nanoha grinned at the feeling of the warm, furry little weight resting on her and added to the text, which was by now almost six times longer than a normal text’s limit. Still, she had plenty of free texts on the mobile from the last top-up, so it didn’t matter very much.

‘I do have a favour to ask, though. Fate-chan thought I would be lonely, so she kind of took one of Suzuka-chan’s kittens which she’d seen being friendly with me before. Vesta-chan is very cute, and I’m glad to have her as a pet, but could you please tell Suzuka-chan where she is, and apologise for Fate cat-napping her? I tried to get her to take her back, but Vesta-chan didn’t seem to want to go.’

“Did you, Vesta-chan?” she added aloud, tilting her head back again to address her lump on her back. The kitten had actually put up quite a fuss at the time, somehow twisting out of the other mage’s grip as Nanoha had pressed the little ball of fur into her hands and hissing at her, before taking refuge behind Nanoha’s legs. She had refused to move more than a metre or so away from her chosen protector for the rest of the day, staying twined around the girl’s legs whenever possible.

It had made walking difficult, to say the least.

“Mraa! Mreow! Mraa!” replied the kitten to her owner’s question, batting at Nanoha’s pigtails with a lazy paw. She missed, not having the reach to connect with her target, but was apparently too warm and comfortable to move from her resting spot.

Glancing back, Nanoha noted that it just so happened to be perfectly situated in the path of a sunbeam that fell over the couch, and smiled knowingly.

“That’s right, you’re happy just where you are, aren’t you?”

“Mraa!”

‘I don’t think I have anything more to say, so all my love to papa and Kyouya and Miyuki! And I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can! Hugs and kisses, Nanoha.’

Nodding decisively at her conclusion, Nanoha’s thumb hovered briefly over the ‘send’ button before stopping. No, she remembered. First she had to check the content against Linith’s list of things-she-wasn’t-allowed-to-talk-about.

Which was on the table. On the other side of the room. Too far away to reach.

“Ah heh… Vesta-chan? Do you mind moving?”

A faint growl was her only response.

“… right.”

Creativity it was, then. And at least this way, she got to exercise one of the new spells she’d learnt recently. Her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth as she craned up as far as she could without disturbing the slumbering kitten on her back, getting a clear line of sight to the piece of paper she wanted. Holding out a hand, she concentrated briefly and a pink thread leapt from her palm to her target, wreathing it in a pink halo that covered its surface like a thin film as it made contact.

“And now…” Slowly but surely, Nanoha flexed the mana thread that connected the list to her hand. And as gently as a feather, it floated up and across the room into her waiting fingers.

Cancelling the spell, she let out a little hum of delight, half-turning to address her only audience again. “Did you see that, Vesta-chan? Wasn’t it great?”

Low purring and a feline yawn indicated the kitten’s lack of acknowledgement, or indeed notice, of the feat. Nanoha pouted slightly at the disregard of her talents, but gave the kitten a mental pass regardless. Curled up on her back in the sunlight, the little creature was probably half-asleep; exhausted after a day spent running in circles chasing the training shot Nanoha had been threading around the room. Unfolding the list, she returned her attention to the matter at hand, checking the content of her text message against Linith’s list of don’ts.

She hadn’t mentioned where they were staying, so that was fine. Nor was there anything on what the mission was; what she was learning or what her capabilities were. She’d said that she was learning more magic, of course, but that was kind of obvious, and probably okay to send. She’d named no places she'd been or names that her mother didn’t already know – well, other than Vesta, who was just a kitten and not that important. What was next on the list… ah. She _had_ sort of given details of their plans, in talking about how Precia-san’s suggestion to create a Familiar.

She hastily scrolled up and deleted that entire paragraph, leaving the message flowing straight from how she was staying hidden to how she was learning magic. Looking over the message again, she nodded firmly and reached backwards.

“Sorry, Vesta-chan. I have to move now, or I can’t send this.” It took a little coaxing, but eventually the kitten reluctantly left her comfy seat on the girl’s back, settling for a carefully placed cushion instead and going quickly back to sleep. Nanoha smiled at the little curled-up ball of fluff, stroking her a few times, before saving her message as a draft and making tracks towards the roof, prying the battery out of the phone before she left the shielded apartment. That was on the list as well. Unless she was under the wards of the apartment that stopped the phone from getting any bars of reception its position could be triangulated from, the battery was to remain out whenever she wasn’t actively sending. Hopping off the roof into flight, she coasted through the darkening skies until she felt she’d put sufficient distance between her and the apartment, and slipped the battery back in again. It was the work of a moment to send the saved text, and then the battery came back out and she was on the way home.

… home. It still felt strange, thinking of the penthouse as home. But it was, now, and Fate and Arf were her new flatmates. She giggled to herself. Flatmates. It sounded so old and responsible. And indeed, as she touched back down on the roof, she felt the mental nudge from the direction of the setting sun that heralded their return from the afternoon patrol. From the feel of it, it would be a few minutes before they arrived.

Just enough time to get tea boiling, then. Rolling up her sleeves, Nanoha made for the kitchen.

…

“We’re home!”

Fate’s soft call reached Nanoha in the kitchen as she and Arf entered the apartment. It had taken a few days to get the reserved girl to call out in greeting like that, but it had definitely been worth it to hear the quiet note of welcome in her voice whenever she did.

“Welcome home!” Nanoha called back happily. “I’m in the kitchen! With tea!” A patter of canine feet and a faint ‘mrowl!’ announced Arf’s approach through the main living space.

Nanoha had to stifle a giggle as the wolf entered, though. Vesta had reacted surprisingly well to the enormous canine. Instead of being scared of or hostile to a creature that could probably eat her in one bite, she had stared at Arf for about a minute the first time they had met before mewling slightly and curling up into the wolf’s side. Personally, Nanoha was of the opinion that the warmth Arf had been giving off had trumped any fear created by her appearance, but the effect seemed to have stuck. Vesta was perfectly content in the familiar’s company, even to the point of including her in the mad games she occasionally played, which only appeared to make sense to eight-week old kittens and occasionally Arf herself.

Which was apparently what had just happened. Nanoha hadn’t seen it, but given Vesta’s position on the back of the couch when she had got back mere minutes ago, she was willing to bet that the kitten had taken a flying leap from her lofty perch as Arf had trotted past. Now, the orange-haired wolf looked up at her and huffed faintly in amusement, the happily purring grey and black kitten draped over her head like a folded towel.

“Are you offering rides now, Arf-chan?” she asked, and received another amused huff in reply. Arf trotted past her, over to the radiator on the wall opposite the kitchen door, and tilted her head down into the towel-lined basket that sat at its base. With a faint ‘meep’, the bundle of fur draped over her head slid down past her eyes, along her muzzle and onto the cushion of towels with a soft thump.

For a moment, it looked as though Vesta were going to protest at the treatment, but then the waves of heat the radiator was giving off hit her. Apparently deciding that this was, in fact, where she had been intending to end up all along, she snuggled further into the blankets and voiced her approval.

“Mraaaaaaaa…”

Nanoha brought a hand to her mouth as she giggled involuntarily. “Where’s Fate-chan?” she asked, setting Arf’s tea on the table as the familiar resumed human form.

“Updating the map in the study,” yawned Arf, taking it gratefully and collapsing into a chair. “And then she said something about a bath. Though if you have tea, she’ll probably be through here to pick it up en route.”

A sound behind them caught their attention, and they turned to find a tired-looking Fate in the doorway. She had dismissed her Barrier Jacket already, leaving her in the black lace dress she had worn when she had visited Nanoha at her home, and she rubbed at her eyes as she made for the table, saying something incomprehensible.

“Um…” Nanoha replied uncertainly, and Fate’s gaze rose to meet hers. There was a second or two of awkward silence as they remembered that they couldn’t talk to one another without their Devices.

Arf broke the silence. “She said thank you for the tea,” she yawned again, and took another sip of tea, closing her eyes as the hot liquid warmed her from the inside. “And that she’s filled in the grid squares we searched. No successes, m’afraid. And boy, was that tiring…”

“Ah… you were searching the grid edges again?” Nanoha asked. The furthest squares on the grid were usually covered by Fate, as she was the fastest and the most experienced mage in the group – and thus the best equipped to cover the large areas and long distances around the furthest regions of the area the Jewel Seeds were scattered over. But that much flying tended to be exhausting, and she was often visibly tired when she got back home from a long patrol. Arf said something in Mid Standard, presumably translating Nanoha’s query for her master, and Fate opted just to nod. There were bags under her eyes, Nanoha noted. Probably from staying up late into the night, plotting out patrol schedules and analysing what they had learnt about their opponents in the brief battle two weeks ago.

Picking up the cup of tea, Fate took a long breath of the fragrant steam rising from its surface, closing her eyes blissfully at the smell and the warmth. With another parting remark aimed at Arf, she slipped out of the door again, taking the cup with her.

“She’s going to have a bath,” translated Arf. “She’ll be back to talk afterwards. And I’m going to have a nap.” She paused. “Uh, she didn’t say that last bit. That was from me.”

Nanoha nodded absently, sipping at her tea as the familiar curled up beside the radiator, her head lying on Vesta’s basket as her breathing slipped into the slow, heavy rhythm of slumber. Nanoha paid the animals little mind. She was thinking hard, staring into the translucent depths of her teacup.

She hadn’t lied to her mother. It _was_ wonderful, learning magic as she was. But there were less pleasant aspects of her new day-to-day life. It was the strange feeling of loneliness that was the worst, the feeling that despite fighting together and making a mutual vow to defend Alicia, there was still a gulf that separated her and Fate. A language barrier which they couldn’t bridge without assistance and a wall of life experience beyond that that seemed almost unbreakable.

She shook her head in annoyance. She was imagining things. Fate was a little reserved; that was true. And her life had admittedly been very different to Nanoha’s, consumed as it was by training and preparation for her mission. Nanoha could scarcely imagine what it must have been like to grow up on the Garden. Fate was already becoming a close and valued friend, but there was so much they still didn’t know about one another. She tried hard not to wonder whether they’d get the chance to find it out.

“Nanoha-chan?” The voice behind her made her jump, slopping the tea from the cup onto her hand. She instinctively flinched, but paused in surprise as she realised it was barely lukewarm. How long had she been sitting there, lost in thought?

“Nanoha-chan? Hello?” There was a definite teasing note to the intruding voice now, a faint smile audible in the dulcet tones. Grinning ruefully, Nanoha turned to the girl standing a little way behind her, pushing the chair back under the table as she rose. Taking in the girl’s attire, she raised her eyebrows. The big fluffy bath robe was jet black – an unusual choice of colour – and at least three sizes too big for its occupant. The hem rested on the floor behind her and its folds swamped her almost to the point of obscuring her altogether. It did look awfully comfy, though. Soft and fuzzy and warm, it was just the thing to slip into after a long hot bath.

“Heh heh… sorry, Fate-chan. I was miles away,” she excused herself. “You wanted something?”

Fate nodded. Subtly examining her, Nanoha was pleased to see that the bags under her eyes had receded somewhat, and her hair and skin had a healthy glow that struck a definite contrast with the pallid, tired shades they had borne before her bath.

“This is better?” Fate asked quietly. She said it without turning towards her, but Nanoha could see the faint traces of a smile tugging at the corner of her lip. She winced. Apparently her subtle scrutiny hadn’t been quite as subtle as she had thought.

“Ahh… yes, you look much better now, Fate-chan!” She smiled cheerfully, nodding in appreciation. “You seemed really tired when you got back, but you look a lot more awake now.”

Fate smiled; the subdued little curve of her lips that Nanoha had come to expect as the most expressive show of amusement she tended to display. “Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that,” she remarked, and gestured Nanoha into the study. “On another note, I have a present for you. Sort of.”

“Um… really?” Nanoha’s interest was perked though there was a tinge of concern there as well. Her last present from Fate had been Vesta, after all, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be party to another animal kidnapping.

Fate apparently picked up on the hesitation in Nanoha’s voice, because her lips twitched again in another smile. “Don’t worry,” she reassured her friend, “it’s not like the last one. It’s something to help you in going out and about. Where’s Raising Heart?”

“Ahh… in my room. Should I go get it?” Raising Heart? Nanoha considered the query thoughtfully. Maybe the present was some sort of upgrade to her Device? Something to do with the illusions she used to disguise herself in public, perhaps?

“No, that’s okay. Basically… hmm.” Fate leaned against the desk. “You don’t know anything about clothes in Dimensional Space, do you?” Waiting for Nanoha’s thoroughly confused shake of the head, she continued. “Well, it doesn’t work quite like on Earth. You know how our Barrier Jackets function? Mana constructs generated by our Devices and Linker Cores?”

“… yes…” Nanoha wasn’t entirely sure where this was going, now, and waited patiently for Fate to explain.

“On most TSAB worlds, normal clothing works the same way, though without the defensive fields and body armour and stuff. They’re called Jackets. Without the Barrier bit, see? And that means that you don’t get lovely physical clothes like these,” she stroked the enveloping bathrobe fondly, “sold in shops. You mostly have templates that you buy from designers and download, or design yourself. Though designing a clothing template yourself takes a lot longer, and is harder than it sounds.” She frowned ruefully, and Nanoha got the impression that she had found this lesson out the hard way. “But it means that you can change clothes very easily and quickly, and carry a wide range of outfits on you at all times, stored in your Device. You see?”

Nanoha nodded; her eyes wide at the possibilities. Quite apart from how much easier it would make clothes shopping, she could already see how being able to change clothes as quickly as she could activate her Barrier Jacket could help her go out and about. A change of clothes and an alteration to the illusion that masked her face, and she could effectively duck into a toilet if she was spotted and walk out as a different person.

“Oh, and there are ways to tweak a Jacket, too,” continued Fate, smiling in response to the growing enthusiasm on Nanoha’s face. “I’ve sent a basic clothing guide to Raising Heart... Linith cracked the garments in it, so you should be able to try them out yourself. Have fun experimenting with them, and ask me if you want to try any big changes to the default outfits that come with it. Things like colour and cut should be easy enough, and they automatically fit your size, but changing a skirt into shorts is harder than you might think.” Again the frown surfaced, forcing Nanoha to stifle a giggle. “Okay?”

Impulsively, Nanoha hugged her. “It’s better than okay!” she grinned ecstatically. “This is awesome! I have to go try them out… oh, but I was going to have a bath…” Torn between trying out the new magic and taking a bath of her own, she hesitated, dithering between the direction of the bathroom, and the direction of her bedroom and Raising Heart.

Fate lightly tapped her on the head. “They’ll still be there when you get out. Have a bath first, then play with clothes,” she suggested.

“… great idea!” Nanoha paused just long enough to engulf Fate in another delighted hug, before running off to suit action to word, practically bouncing down the corridor in eager anticipation of the new magic she had to learn and experiment with.

Fate watched her go, and smiled. It seemed, she thought to herself, that her goal of cheering the girl up and keeping her mind off the negative side of her new situation was meeting with remarkable success.

…

“This is _tedious_ ,” Heidi complained for roughly the third time in the last minute as she adjusted a nest of complex wiring inside the football-sized faceted metal sphere that was resting on her knees. “And I’m still aching from where that damn blonde caught me… honestly, someone that powerful and that young? It’s ridiculous, I’m telling you. We’re working against two AA-rank mages, and they’re both _nine_ , it’s like the universe is being deliberately unfair.” She scowled, giving the device a sharp slap on the side, and nodded in satisfaction when it gave off a soft hum.

“It’s not even as if they’re likely to come back here, anyway,” she continued, nimble fingers pulling the pentagonal faces back into position to seal the ball closed. “They’d have to be stupid for the Takamachi girl to show up anywhere they know we know she’s spent a lot of time at. This is drudge work, plain and simple.”

“You know,” remarked her companion conversationally, “if you keep ranting like that, we’re going to get caught. Though at least you’re doing it in Mid, so it’s not like anyone will understand you if you’re overheard.” Pressing her face up to the chain-link fence that ringed the edge of the roof, Mei Ereignis peered down at the grounds of the school they currently stood atop. “We’re clear for now, though. Looks like classes are still on for a while, though if you could set that thing up a little faster…”

“I’m almost done,” replied Heidi snappishly, as she clicked the last few panels into place. “Here. Where’s a good place to put it?”

“Hmm…” Mei scanned the roof, spiky green-silver hair shifting in the rooftop breeze. “I’d say… over there.” She snatched the thing out of her teammate’s hands, grinned cheerfully at the squawk of outrage and danced over to the small hut-like protrusion within which the stairwell led down into the building. Casually disregarding gravity, she leapt up onto the roof and delicately set the metal sphere down.

“You should’ve just stood on tiptoe,” remarked Heidi from below. “If you keep throwing magic around needlessly like that, you’re going to get us caught.”

“Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport,” said Mei dismissively, waving the barb off. She assured herself that it was set firmly enough in the middle that it wouldn’t roll off, and then sent a faint pulse of magic to it. With a low hum, the edges glowed for a second with a dull white light, and then the entire thing rippled and vanished as the basic illusionary cloak activated.

“Right!” chirped Mei happily; ignoring the glare that Heidi sent her way. “That’s that one done, and if either of the girls comes within a block of this place, we’ll know about it and we’ll catch magic too! That means just…” her eyes glazed slightly as she checked with her Device, “… seven more to go, and then we can go back up to the Asura and see what the Admiral wants us to do next!”

Heidi rolled her eyes. Two years made a lot of difference in maturity, it seemed. Though Mei seemed to just be naturally… Mei-ish. Whatever the cause, it made for a frustrating partnership on her side.

“She’s a flotilla admiral, not a full admiral,” she corrected, continuing her earlier rant at a grumble. “Which just goes to show how backwater this place is. This entire District has a flotilla admiral as its ranking officer, and its senior enforcer is wet and just out of training. And is the son of the flotilla admiral. And I suspect she had to fight to have him, just so she had a single AAA mage around. Honestly, I think back home probably has more assets than this entire district. And the old women in their towers want us to be strictly neutral.” She let out a frustrated groan. “We are _so_ unprepared for a case like this! Urgh! And what is it, Mei?”

This last she added because Mei was frowning, in the way Heidi had learnt to take as an indication that she was about to ask a particularly annoying question. Tossing her hair back over her shoulder, she followed the fifteen-year old in a quiet jump down from the roof onto the grounds, taking care not to be seen. While they could probably outpace anyone who discovered them on the school grounds, it would still be better not to get caught.

Once they made it out onto the street, Mei picked up where the conversation had left off. “Yeah,” she said, “I was just trying to remember. Which one is a flotilla admiral again? I remember the lower ranks, but…”

Heidi raised a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. “You are… urgh. How you passed your exams I will never know. It’s one rank higher than Captain, just below a Rear Admiral. Don’t you ever pay-”

She trailed off, as Mei lost her hold on a straight face and started sniggering. “Good job, Miss Library. Who are you trying to impress, the natives?”

“You… urgh!” Heidi exclaimed, swatting her on the shoulder. “Don't mess around like that! This is serious!” Taking a deep breath to calm down – Mei was _very_ frustrating to deal with – she adjusted her beret and looked around. “Alright. Where’s our next target? We’ve done the house, the school, Lanster and Rizu are doing the bakery...”

“The friends,” Mei reminded her, the joking exterior giving way to a brief burst of professionalism. “What were their names…”

“Bannings and Tsukimura,” Heidi supplied, “yes, I remember. Were there any others we found?”

“No, it was just two that she spends much time with. I think the Bannings house is closer… this way.” Mei pointed, and they fell into an easy procession towards their next target.

“Alright,” breathed Heidi, still in Mid. She glanced around, but none of the people within earshot seemed to react noticeably to the foreign language. Perhaps tourists were common here? She wasn’t going to complain if it made it easy to talk freely. “Second mission. What have we got on the ramifications of the light show and so on?”

Mei sucked in air through her teeth. “… not much. I mean, I’ve heard a lot of talk, but… not much concrete. You?”

Platinum blonde locks shifted across one another as Heidi shook her head. “Similarly little. I guess we’ll have to hope that Lanster and Rizu got more on that front.” She sighed tiredly. “Come on. Let’s get the sensors set up and tag Takamachi’s friends with trackers. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can get back to the ship.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Mei grinned. “Heh. You know Rizu has a bit of a crush on him?” Her grin turned teasing. “I’d love to see what they’re up to right now…”

…

It wasn’t a date. Rizu reminded herself of that yet again as she blushed shyly in response to another question as to where she’d met her ‘boyfriend’. For the third time, she tried to explain that Lieutenant Lanster - or rather, Tiida - wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t even in the café at the moment, in fact, which was why she was talking to its proprietor, to distract the woman from what he _was_ doing. Somehow, though, the words got tangled up on their way from her brain to her mouth, and what came out was a stuttered explanation of how they knew each other through work.

The brown-haired woman she was talking to chuckled, leaning on the counter. “A part-time job?” she guessed. “I’m surprised, at your age. Not many teenagers are willing to give up their free time like that.”

“Ah… yes. I g-guess I’m just… keen?” Rizu shifted uncomfortably and tried not to look too suspicious. She glanced towards the window. Outside, Tiida should be setting up the sensor, a task which should be surreptitious. Should be.

But Enforcer Harlaown’s report on the woman had been chilling. If she had been training since childhood, she would probably be as good as the Enforcer himself. Even as it was, with her magical talent a latent gift, the size of her unconscious reserves merited a B-ranking. That was higher than that of Rizu herself. And while the Takamachi matron wasn’t trained to use it, Chrono had reported that she seemed to be unusually sensitive to magic directed at her and prone to leaking mana into her surroundings when angry. It wasn’t impossible that she might detect the slight pulse of magic that accompanied the sensor’s activation if not distracted.

And if she did… well. It was possible that she didn’t know the crude combat style her family practiced, but Rizu was very, very sure that it was not a risk she wanted to take. Momoko Takamachi needed to be distracted enough not to notice the faint taste of magic in the air when the sensor went online, or things could turn very nasty. They couldn’t just leave the shop alone, either. If the Takamachi girl was going to show up anywhere, it was most likely to be here or her home. And since the place was fairly empty, leaving the woman inside with nothing to occupy her attention, it had been up to Rizu to enter the dragon’s lair, buy herself a coffee and strike up a conversation.

Which she really should be paying attention to, rather than drifting off. Rizu dragged her attention back to the matter at hand. Momoko had said something that she had missed, lost in thought as she had been. “Um… excuse me?” she asked, wincing internally. The woman didn’t seem offended, though, and chuckled again.

“I said, you’re foreign, aren’t you? From India, maybe?” asked Momoko. Rizu froze again, terrified. Had the shopkeeper seen through her? Did she know that Rizu was TSAB-aligned? 

“Y-yes,” she stuttered, mind working furiously to come up with a cover story that would allay suspicion. “I'm... p-practicing the language, t-trying to get as much of a chance to speak it as p-possible.” She ducked her head. “I've always had th-the stammer, though... it m-means I h-have issues knowing how easy I am to understand.”

“Oh?” Momoko raised an eyebrow. “Well, congratulations. You’re already quite good.” She smiled encouragingly. “Keep it up and I’m sure you’ll be fluent in no time!”

“Ah…” Rizu coughed, “… yes. I hope s-so.”

“But,” the woman continued, “just to check, are you sure your visa covers things like working in this country? Some don’t, and I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble because you made a mistake.”

“Um…”

“I can help you check, if you’d like. I know a bit about this sort of thing – we’ve had a few foreign exchange students working here, over the years.” Momoko’s expression gave every indication that she was serious about the offer, and Rizu slipped into panic mode.

“Th-that’s very generous of you!” she squeaked, “But really, it’s fine! I-I’ve already… I know… it’s fine, I p-promise!” She bit her lip, trying to think of some way to extend the conversation and keep the woman’s attention on her.

“So…” she looked around, searching for a topic, “This is a lovely place. How long h-have you been working here?”

“Ohhh…” Momoko leaned heavily on the counter, counting on her fingers. “Let me see… yes, it would be about ten years now.” A gentle smile crossed her face. “Yes, because it was a few months after we opened that I found out I was pregnant with Nanoha-chan. My, was that a surprise.”

Rizu tried to conceal her sudden tension. “A daughter? So she’d be nine, now?” She grinned nervously. “I remember when M-Mei was that age. She was a right little t-terror.”

For a moment, the brown-haired woman’s face looked sad, but the expression was gone almost as soon as Rizu identified it. Shaking the brief morose flash off, Momoko leant further forward over the counter. “Oh?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow. “I doubt she was as troublesome as Nanoha was, when she was little.” It was a playful challenge, and obviously so.

Sighing in remembrance, the TSAB cadet looked down at the coffee she was cradling as she picked over some of the more impressive feats her half-sister had managed, mentally editing out any mentions of magic. “When she was t-ten, she decided that she wanted to fly to o- to the moon,” this planet only had one moon, she had to remember that, “and d-decided to do so from the roof. She somehow got up out of the attic w-window, and then tried to t-take a running leap to start her flight from just above the p-patio. She was lucky she… um, l-landed in a bush, and got off w-with a broken ankle.” Yes, that would probably pass. Actually, she’d managed to slow her fall with magic just enough that her impact with the pavement had merely been bone-breaking, but this woman didn’t need to know that.

She risked a glance upwards, to find Momoko staring at her, both eyebrows now high on her forehead. “… well,” the woman managed after a few seconds, “that’s… impressive, yes. She must worry your poor parents sick.”

“Ah, just our mother,” corrected Rizu. “We’re half-sisters. My father… left, and our mother remarried hers. And he died a long time ago. Though honestly, I’m s-still surprised we’re related sometimes, we’re so d-different.” Belatedly, she remembered who she was talking to and what she was supposed to be doing, and coloured. She had let herself get caught up talking and forgotten her mission! “Uh… so yes, Mei was a handful. I hope your daughter isn’t quite _that_ difficult to handle.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Momoko sighed, “Lately...” Her eyes lost the playful gleam they’d had, and for a moment she looked very small. “She disappeared, two weeks ago. I’m sure she’s alright, wherever she is – she’s a strong girl, and very good at taking care of herself. But I can’t help but feel terrified for her.”

Rizu barely needed to fake her concern – she knew that the girl had cut ties with her family, of course, but it still tugged at her heartstrings to hear it from the mother she had left behind. “I’m so sorry… you’ve heard nothing from her? Do you know why she disappeared?”

Momoko’s eyes snapped up, a hint of frost in the blue, and Rizu tried not to flinch. That had probably sounded a little too eager. Suspiciously so, though? She wasn’t sure, but regardless, she needed to repair the damage as quickly as possible.

“I… I’m s-sorry,” she stuttered, backpedalling as fast as she could and waving her hands in denial, a crimson flush spreading across her cheeks. “I- I understand if you d-don’t want to t-talk about it, I just… I’m very sorry, and I hope you see her again soon, and-”

A wave of the woman’s hand cut her off. “It’s alright,” sighed Momoko. “I understand. Thank you for your concern, though.”

Gulping, Rizu nodded, wondering how she was going to keep the woman’s attention now. There didn’t seem to be any way to restart the conversation after that – though at least she was fairly sure, judging from Momoko’s behaviour, that the younger Takamachi hadn’t been in contact with her parents since her disappearance.

She was saved from the awkward silence by the tinkling of the bell as the door swung open. Turning to see who it was; she felt a rush of relief as she recognised the tall, red-headed figure that stepped through.

“Tiida-san!” she called gratefully. If he was in here, that meant he had set up the sensor already. She must have missed it, and evidently so had Momoko, so… mission accomplished! Tiida returned the greeting with a smile and a wave, and she watched as he took a seat on the other side of the café and began leafing through a newspaper that had been left on the table.

“Um… Rizu-chan?” Momoko’s voice drew her back around. The woman looked a little uncomfortable. “Is… is _that_ your boyfriend? Only… I’m not sure how to say this, but… are you sure he isn’t too old for you? I was under the impression you were about the same age.”

Rizu honestly had no idea how to respond to that. She looked over at her partner, who was reclining in a comfortable chair on the other side of the café, the open newspaper in his hands. He glanced up as he felt her desperate scrutiny, nodded encouragingly at her companion, and returned to his perusal of the paper, a slight frown on his face.

Well. That was no help at _all_.

“We’re… only t-two years apart,” she offered. “And it’s not quite… like… that. Um.”

Momoko’s frown only grew larger at the tentative explanation. “Are… hmm. Are you saying that because he told you to, dear? Because if he’s trying to make you keep your relationship secret, you should-”

“No no no!” Rizu stammered out frantically, waving her hands again. “It’s nothing like that! He’s a good person, honest! He’d never do that!” She tried to keep her voice hushed so that the subject of their conversation wouldn’t overhear, but she still didn’t dare look over at him. She could already feel her cheeks going tomato-red. This was reminding her horribly of the times Mei had got an idea into her head which, while entirely tangential to reality, was almost impossible to dislodge once she’d decided it was true. One such occurrence had led to her little sister deciding that Rizu was being repressed by her dorm mates, and proceeding to drag her out for a night on the town.

That had not ended well.

“A-actually,” she continued, “I think I just remembered an appointment… I should just go and check with him if I have the t-time right.” She scurried away towards her partner. Possibly not the most dignified escape, nor the least suspicious, but anything was better than enduring more of the awkwardness.

“Tiida-san!” she whispered as she approached the table, “Is it d-done? Can we go?”

He looked confused. “Um… are we in any hurry?” he asked, eyes flicking over to Momoko briefly. “Does she…?”

Rizu squirmed uncomfortably. “Well… no. I don’t think so. B-but… Tiida-san, can we _please_ go? I’m… not c-comfortable with staying here. It’s putting me on edge, a-and… I’m afraid I’ll slip up. I think I nearly have done already, once or t-twice.”

“Hmm…” Tiida’s eyes were focused on the paper, a slight frown on his face. “This _is_ interesting…” He looked up, fully taking in the visible distress on his subordinate’s face for the first time. He blinked in mild surprise, but nodded readily enough, switching to Mid to speak. “Alright, we’ve accomplished our primary goal here. Did you find out whether the hostile has been in contact with her mother?”

“I don’t think so,” Rizu replied in the same language, gratefully stepping back as Tiida rose. He tucked the paper under one arm, marking his place with a folded down corner, and dipped a short, respectful bow to Momoko, who frowned at him.

“Hmm,” he remarked. “You may be right. I don’t think she likes me. You’re sure she doesn’t suspect anything?” Rizu nodded mutely, and tried to suppress the urge to grab his hand for reassurance. He sighed, and started towards the door.

“Come on then,” he said, “Let’s go. Admiral Harlaown will be interested to see how much of our fight last fortnight has gone public.”

…

Momoko sighed as she walked up the path to her front door, frowning at the wooden board covering the holes that had been punched through the wall beside it. It had been a long day, and while the girl she had been talking to had been polite and friendly, her boyfriend had seemed rather too old for her. An American, if Momoko was any judge, and if he wasn’t at least two years her senior, she would be surprised. She just hoped the kind girl – who was clearly trying very hard with her Japanese – wasn’t being set up for heartbreak. Of course, there was more of a gap between her and Shiro, but age differences meant less and less as one got older.

Nudging the door open as she twisted the key in the lock, she called out as she stepped into the blessedly warm interior of the house.

“I’m home!”

There was an answering yell from upstairs, which sounded like Shiro, and Momoko smiled faintly as she made a beeline for the kitchen. Her husband was probably engrossed in a conversation with another contact, old friend or past co-worker. He had an impressive array of them, and had been calling in an enormous number of favours over the past few weeks to deal with the situation and squash the media attention. How well it had been working was up for debate, but they were at least staying somewhat under the radar, at a local rather than national news level, so Momoko classed it a tentative success.

Leaning on the kitchen counter, she sighed heavily again. The pink flower hanging on the wall drew her attention, pressed and framed the day after her daughter had given it to her so as not to wilt. Wistfully, she traced a finger across the glass, following the curve of one of the petals as she wondered what Nanoha was doing. Was she happy? Hurt? Fighting? It was a horrible feeling, not knowing, and Momoko fervently wished there was something she could _do_ , besides just waiting.

“Sweetheart?”

She turned, and found her husband’s concerned face poking around the door to the kitchen, hovering just outside. She rolled her eyes at his hesitation to come into the room fully, and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you have a moment?” Shiro’s voice held an edge of anticipation, and Momoko’s eyebrow rose further. He wanted something. Interesting.

“I suppose I do,” she replied laconically, and strolled over, following him into the living room, where the low coffee table was littered with papers and notes. He sat on the couch and she followed suit, wondering what this was about.

“Alright,” he started without preamble. “Have you seen today’s paper yet?” At her puzzled head shake, he plucked it off the table and handed it over.

It only took a glance to realise what he meant. Momoko drew breath in sharply as she recognised what could only be Nanoha, blazing and pink-wreathed, an indistinct white-clad figure in a halo of sakura-coloured light. The shock didn’t last long, though, and as the initial stab of panic faded, she looked over the picture with a more assessing eye. It was _very_ indistinct, the intensity of the light had obscured most of Nanoha’s features from the camera - which looked like it had been a fairly low-end cellphone model anyway, from the graininess of the background. Momoko could tell who it was, but it wasn’t likely that anyone who didn’t know the girl personally would be able to pin it down to anything more than a young girl.

“It’s not a clear image,” she said slowly, sharing her thoughts with her husband. “Probably not enough to identify her. Did this only just come out today?”

Shiro nodded. “First I’ve seen of it. I guess whoever took it was trying to wrangle a higher price out of the newspapers, or something. Regardless… I won’t repeat the whole article, but there a quite a few observations and signs. The lights in the sky – pink and yellow comets downtown. That whole business with the hospital, six dead and a load of bodies from the morgue strewed across three floors – and people are saying that they were _walking_ , moving around and glowing purple. There’s been a few rabble-rousers going on about it being a sign of the end of times. And then this.” He rapped the paper. “A high-speed chase through the streets, some sort of white glowing figure, and a pink-glowing girl flying down and attacking it. Which put a pretty large dent in the lorry it was on at the time, apparently.”

Momoko nodded uncertainly. “Okay… so what’s your point? I understand that it’s probably not a terribly good thing that these events are being publicised, but what can we do about it?”

Shiro fixed her with a serious, level stare. “Nothing directly. We can only hope that Nanoha’s disappearance doesn’t get linked to the magic sightings, because everything goes out of the window if they do. But, still, if events like this continue to spill over into everyday life, there’s a chance you could be put in danger. Now, Kyouya talked to me about his… ah… confrontation with that Harlaown boy you talked to, and that didn’t go very well. But it _did_ show that he could at least get the first move in, and it was only the fact that he went about it in the wrong way that lost him the fight.”

Momoko waited. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, and despite herself, a little seed inside her was eagerly waiting for him to say it.

“So…” Shiro hesitated for a second, taking in the calm, patient expression of his wife, “… I’d like to teach you the basics of self-defence, in the Fuwa style. Enough that you’ll be able to at least get away from anything that happens, and catch anything that might attack you off-guard. Does that sound okay to you?”

A smile slipped onto the brown-haired woman’s expression, expressing a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation. “That sounds,” she said, fighting down the urge to giggle triumphantly at the chance to learn what she was fairly sure might be something similar to magic, “absolutely wonderful.”

The dojo, when they got to it, was empty. Miyuki was up in her room working on some school coursework, and Kyouya was visiting Shinobu again, so they had the large training hall to themselves. Shiro offered a quick bow to the shrine on the far wall, and then unpacked one of the training dummies, the padded torso mounted on a stand that put it on the same level as a standing person.

“Alright,” he said, turning to Momoko, who had changed into comfortable slacks and a T-shirt, the better to move around in. “I know you already know the basics of self-defence – how to fall, how to breathe and so on. So we’re going to move onto the basics of attack. Specifically, I’m going to show you how to punch. Properly.”

Momoko was privately amused at the lecturing tone her husband was taking, but kept her face attentive and interested, watching carefully as Shiro demonstrated the motions slowly for her, and committing them to memory.

“You need to keep your wrist and arm aligned,” Shiro stressed. “There’s a lot of force behind a punch, and it’s being put on your arm just as much as whatever you’re punching. The bones in your hand and arm need to be lined up properly, or you could end up breaking your wrist.” He adjusted her arm slightly, nudging her hand down by a fraction and pulling her shoulder back a little. “Good. Now remember, you punch with your whole body not just your arm. Breathe in, feel your breath pool in your abdomen. Then punch in one fluid movement, and let the breath and force flow up through your chest, down your arm and into your target. Make sure to transfer all the force in one motion, don’t pull back or hesitate. A single, quick, clean movement.”

“One movement. I understand,” Momoko nodded. Closing her eyes for a moment, she breathed in slowly, not into her lungs, but with her diaphragm, as she’d been taught. She let that breath go, drew another, and opened her eyes.

And then, in a clean movement, she threw the punch, arm held relaxed but firm in the position she’d been shown. It hurt a little, as her knuckles sunk into the stiff padding on the dummy, but it was shunted backwards satisfyingly by the blow and she could feel the force that had been behind it.

“Well done!” congratulated Shiro. “Very good. A little loose on the follow-through, but nothing too bad. Alright, show me again, and this time try to get all the force across in one impact, don’t keep pushing afterwards.”

It took a dozen more demonstrations until he was happy, and Momoko’s knuckles were beginning to ache, but eventually Shiro called a halt to her practice and declared he was satisfied.

“Now,” he continued, picking up from where his explanations had left off. “That’s an ordinary punch. But as you may have noticed, Fuwa is far from an normal fighting style. And the key difference between it and other styles is-”

“Ki,” Momoko interrupted with a smirk, cutting Shiro off before he could go on a long lecture. He deflated slightly and shot her a dirty look.

“Yes, fine, alright. Ki.” He rolled his eyes. “Now, the difference between a ki-assisted strike and a normal one is huge. So we’re going to get you started on trying to feel your ki and channel it into a strike. It’s okay if you don’t get results the first few times, that’s normal. All I’m looking for this session is to try and draw on it, and see if you can feel the difference in how the punch feels.”

Momoko nodded, glancing over at the dummy. “Ah…” she hesitated briefly, “could you demonstrate first? It was a big help, seeing it.”

Shiro nodded amicably, and took up a relaxed stance in front of the target. “Alright,” he said. “This is a normal, unenhanced punch.” He threw a rapid jab at the dummy, which rocked back on its stand from the force before settling down again. “Powerful, but nothing special. And this is with ki. I’ll use a small amount, so as not to break the dummy, but watch the difference closely.”

He closed his eyes for a second as he focused, and then lashed out with a blurred strike without even bothering to open them. Momoko _heard_ the impact; a dull crack that echoed slightly in the large room, and the dummy actually lifted off the floor for a brief second, sent airborne by the force behind the blow before it came crashing back down to the floor a metre or two away from its starting point. A warm feeling of pride and satisfaction glowed at the back of her mind for a second as Shiro calmly walked over and set it up again.

“Alright,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.”

He stood back, watching as his wife breathed slowly. “Feel your ki, the pool of power in your abdomen,” he instructed quietly. “Feel it surge and ebb in response to your breathing. Take a little of it, and funnel it up your body, and direct it along the line of your arm. Focus on the path it’s taking, on how it moves through your body and into the target. Breathe, and focus, until you’re certain of the strike. The movement itself is only the end of the process, it should be complete and perfect in your mind before you move a muscle. Run it through in your head over and over against before you even think of striking, every last movement you make, how it will feel, and how your hand will move. You don’t need to do this fast at the moment, you just need to do it _right_.”

She nodded silently, and he could see the shift in her attention as it turned inwards. Relaxing slightly, he refrained from interrupting her trance with any more advice. He wasn’t expecting her to manage any visible change, anyway. This was just the first step, the beginner’s lesson in reaching out to touch her ki and understand what it felt like. Using it to noticeably improve her performance could come later.

Watching her breathe and concentrate, Shiro allowed his eyes to slip up and down her form, an appreciative smile forming as he took in the familiar curves and features that were still just as beautiful now as they had been more than ten years ago when they had first met. The loose ponytail and comfortable clothes she wore didn’t make her any less gorgeous, and in the evening light that penetrated the dojo, she almost seemed to glow.

He blinked. In fact, she didn’t _seem_ to be glowing. She _was_ glowing, a deep red-pink aura that was almost transparent, nothing more than a faint tint to the air. Shiro frowned, moving to call a halt to her practice even as a blazing sheath of red-pink light roared to life around her right forearm and she lunged forward.

“Momoko, _stop!_ ”

Too late. Contact.

Momoko’s fist connected with the front of the dummy’s chest in a light-streaked blur, and Shiro was barely able to note that her form was excellent as her hand sank through the layers of padding as if they weren’t there. It hit the wooden core, and a cratered impression around the point of impact simply _vanished_ in a cloud of splinters and smoke. An echoing crack sounded as the dummy was sent bouncing across the room, broken into two separate pieces, to hit the far wall with a loud thud. It rolled to a halt, a wide bowl-shaped depression of the padding gone and a crater dug into the wood that had been split in half as the dummy broke. Smoke curled up from the burnt edges, and a small cloud of what looked like sawdust lingered in front of Momoko where the dummy had stood.

Shiro stared, unable to quite process what he had just seen. Mouth agape, it wasn’t until the second time Momoko spoke that he registered her voice coming from the floor where she’d fallen gracelessly, bone-tired and tinged with an undercurrent of pain.

“Dear? C-could…” she gasped for breath, “could you please get the medical kit? I think my hand is full of splinters.”

…

The following evening was cold and overcast, a chill hanging in the air that forced pedestrians to don jackets and scarfs to keep warm. Walking away from the Takamachi household with the rest of the TSAB response team, drawing the occasional odd look for the relatively light clothing she wore despite the ambient temperature, Heidi tossed her hair to get it out of her face and sighed.

“Well,” she remarked to the world at large, “that was a colossal waste of time.”

Strolling beside her under several layers of clothing, Tiida threw her a mildly dirty look. After a night and a day of watching the Takamachi household, having been called down in a panic by the planted sensor picking up a strong magical discharge, he was not in a good mood. It might have been better had they actually found any evidence of the girl having visited, but even quietly breaking in while the occupants were out and searching the house had yielded no evidence she had been there recently.

Chrono cleared his throat. “It may have been a false alarm this time,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean we can afford to ignore any future alarms. These hostiles are extremely dangerous, and we need to treat every sighting of them seriously.”

Heidi rolled her eyes, but it was Mei who butted in to offer a counter. “We know that, boss,” she piped up, “I think Heidi is just a bit stressed at all the pressure, you know? And annoyed because we didn’t find anything.”

Chrono considered this for a moment, and nodded. “You have a point,” he admitted. “We are under a lot of pressure here. Alright. Keep your Devices to hand in case we need to call you back for something, but subject to that restriction, I’m authorising some time off. Relax, explore the area… have some fun, and get proper sleep. You can’t work if you’re stressed and under constant pressure.” He nodded at Yuuno. “You too, Scrya. I’ll go back to the ship and inform Admiral Harlaown.”

With that, he checked for any onlookers and teleported away. The backup team stood for a moment in mild surprise, before Mei broke out in a huge grin.

“All _right!_ ” she cheered, pumping a fist in the air. “Score! Do I rule, or do I _rule?_ C’mon, Heidi, Rizu, let’s go check out the bars!” She grabbed each girl, threading her arm through theirs and ignoring the stuttered protests of her half-sister and the eyeroll she received from Heidi.

“Mei, what are the laws in this place on drinking?” she asked, and was met with a nonchalant shrug.

“Dunno, don’t care,” replied the green-haired girl flippantly. “Say, will you two be okay without us?” she asked, throwing a glance at Tiida and Yuuno as Heidi facepalmed. Receiving a shrug from the former and no apparent objection from the latter, she grinned triumphantly. “Awesome! Thanks!”

“Ah… Heidi-san?” Rizu asked as the trio moved away, neither of them willing to expend the effort it would take to avoid being dragged along with their enthusiastic partner, “can I just ask… um… a-aren’t you a little cold?”

Blonde hair swished as the pale girl shook her head. “No,” she replied. “I’m from Schzenais, remember? This is a nice spring morning back home. You lot on your Type-4s and Type-1s have it easy.” Her voice faded away into the distance as they proceeded down the road, “I always used to hate the cold, and… back home in general, really. That’s one of the reasons I applied to join the TSAB…”

Left alone as they departed, Tiida raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Yuuno, who seemed somewhat lost in his thoughts. “Want company?” he asked, though he suspected the answer was going to be ‘no’. The sandy-haired boy looked like he had something he wanted to do.

As expected, Yuuno shook his head. “I’m going to… just look around the city for a while,” he demurred. Tiida raised an eyebrow at that – he rather suspected the boy was going to search for the Takamachi girl – but left it be. It wasn’t likely that he would find her, and if he did he was smart enough to call in backup. Probably.

And anyway, he had a much more important activity to fill his time with. Checking to make sure he wasn’t in sight of any natives, he sent a message to Amy asking to be teleported back up to the Asura. As soon as the transfer was over, he tossed the officer cadet a quick smile and nod of gratitude, and made for his room.

The holo-window was waiting for him, and the call went through in moments. With a silent flicker of colour, the screen opened up to reveal…

“Uh huh?!”

… red. Quite a lot of red. In fact, the entire screen was red save for a small triangle of whiteness in the upper left corner. Bemused, Tiida raised an eyebrow. The sounds from the other end of the connection sounded somewhat harassed, and while he couldn’t make out the exact words being shouted from elsewhere in the house, there was a definite tone of exhausted exasperation in them.

“Hello?” he ventured, and the mysterious redness shifted, before pulling back to reveal an excited face which had chocolate cake smeared around the general region of its mouth and a plaster on one cheekbone. Huge blue eyes raked him evaluatively, confirming his identity, and then crinkled upwards as the six-year old girl split into a huge smile.

“Tiida-nisan!” she gasped in delight, before turning to shout off-screen at the top of her voice. “Auntie! Auntie! It's Tiida-nisan!”

Tiida smirked in amusement as a reply echoed faintly through the connection, and greeted his little sister in turn. “Hello, Tea,” he smiled. “Have you been having fun at Saralyn’s?”

The little girl nodded enthusiastically. “Uh huh! I found out where Auntie Sara keeps her cake! And I got some all by myself! With a chair Device!”

“A… chair Device?”

Another happy nod. “Yeah! Like your gun Devices! Only it was a chair.” Teana nodded with solemn conviction, clearly expecting praise for her inventiveness. Ducking his head and coughing to mask a laugh, Tiida took a moment to gain control of his amusement before looking up again.

“Very well done, then,” he congratulated her. “But are you sure Saralyn said you were allowed to have her cakes?”

Teana appeared to give this some thought, before another cheerful grin split her face and she waved her hands triumphantly. “She didn’t say I couldn’t have any!” she declared, “so it’s okay! And anyway, she found me eating it and just sighed in the boring grown-up way and sent me through here while she cleaned up the kitchen!”

Tiida briefly imagined what the state of the kitchen must have been after Tea had finished using her ‘chair Device’ to extract the cake from whatever high shelf it had been stored on, and winced. “I… see,” he said carefully. “Um… is there any chance I could talk to Saralyn?” And apologise for his little sister’s being such a handful to look after.

Tea, however, had other ideas. “No!” she objected, stamping her foot. “I barely ever get to see you, so you’re not allowed to talk to Auntie about boring grown-up stuff! The last time you called was…” she paused, and a moment passed as she tried to remember the date of his last call back home.

“Three weeks ago,” he prompted, and she nodded furiously, sending her bangs flying.

“Yeah! Which is ages and ages and _ages_ ago! Since then I’ve been to the park two times and gone shopping with Auntie Sara three times and Kimi-chan has got a new pet bunny and I got to stroke him and… and…” she threw her hands up dramatically, “and I can barely even remember you anymore! If you don’t come back soon I’ll forget you forever and ever and ever!” She pouted. “And then I won’t make you any birthday cake, and you’ll be really sorry. So you have to come back home soon!”

“Teana…”

“And if you don’t, then when you do come back I’ll be all _old_ and _wrinkly_ , and you won’t recognise me either!” Tea fixed her brother with an earnest, serious expression as her tone spoke of disaster and calamity. “I might even have to be using a wheelchair by then!” She paused, cocking her head to one side as a thought struck her. “Huh. Could you have a wheelchair Device?” Then she shook her head, eyes widening. “Wait, no. I won’t need a wheelchair, because I’ll have learned to _fly_ by then!”

Tiida sighed, but inside his head. She was obsessed with flying, ever since she had seen him do it. At least the complaints seemed to have temporarily ceased. “I don’t know, Tea. And I’m sorry, but I can’t come home soon. I’m not on my training course anymore. We’ve been enlisted into an active case. Some mages are doing something bad, and we have to stop them before they get out of control and very bad things happen.”

That got her instant attention, as well as sparking a gasp from somewhere off-screen. Saralyn moved into his line of sight, looking concerned.

“Tea, sweetheart?” she asked softly, “why don’t you go and get the painting you did at school from your room to show Tiida? I’m sure he’d like to see it.”

“Okay!” Tea’s face disappeared as she jumped down from the chair she had apparently been standing on, and there was a rapid patter of feet as she clattered upstairs to retrieve her artistic masterpiece. Tiida and Saralyn regarded one another in silence for a moment. They had known each other for some time, having been introduced by her daughters when they were put under his command, and he trusted her to look after his sister while he was away, but there was still a slight tinge of awkward formality in the air between them.

“So,” she began quietly. He shook his head quickly.

“It’s nothing too dangerous,” he hastened to assure her. “It’s a serious case, but we’re confident that we can recover the… solve it before anybody gets hurt. And our squad is just providing support. We have another, more qualified team arriving this afternoon who are going to be taking the lead role in the case.”

Her concern seemed to lessen slightly, and she relaxed a little. “That’s good to hear,” she nodded. “Tea has been coping fairly well. She’s certainly energetic enough.”

Tiida winced again. “Ah… I’m sorry about the cake… she can be a bit of a handful at times. Did she do much damage?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve raised two girls before. After Mei, Tea is nothing I can’t handle. Though I gather I’m going to be handling her for a little longer than I had expected?”

“Ah, yes. Sorry about that, but… Admiral’s orders. I can’t exactly say no.”

The woman shrugged eloquently. “It’s alright. She’s livened the place up a little since the girls left. How are they both? They seem to have a chronic inability to call their mother and catch up.”

Tiida chuckled. “They’re teenagers. I think that’s how they’re supposed to act. But yes, they’re fine. And your son?”

“Coming up on his second birthday. He had a nasty cough a few weeks ago – lots of crying and screaming – but he’s all better now. And other than that, he’s been fine, if somewhat loud. I swear the girls weren’t this noisy.”

“Tiida-san!” A high-pitched yell announced the return of the younger Lanster, and the adults’ conversation was cut short. “Look at my picture!” Teana proudly presented a roughly rectangular piece of paper laden with paint for his inspection. “See, that’s you,” she explained, pointing to a white and blue blotch near the middle, “and that’s the ground waaaay below you, cause you’re flying, and then this is an Evil Belkan Space Monster that you’re fighting, and then _this_ is me coming to save you because you’d be doomed otherwise!” She gestured to her own avatar, which appeared to be swooping towards the menacing black smudge that the fictional Tiida was being defeated by. “And then once I beat it, I get a medal from the TSAB, and they make me a super-mega-captain-of-everything!”

“It’s very good,” admitted Tiida. “I’ll keep an eye out for your sudden promotion, then, shall I?”

“Okay!” chirped Tea, before fixing him with a stern look. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you just cause you’re my brother. If you want to get promoted to super-mega-assistant-captain, you have to work really hard and bring me back lots of presents. And tell me stories! Where are you? What are the super-top-secret Lost Logia you’re trying to get? Will they make everything explode? What type of world are you on? Are there lots of magic-users there? Have you had to fight lots of people yet?”

Laughing, and waving for the barrage of questions to stop so that he could get a word in edgeways – and only somewhat surprised she had jumped to ‘Lost Logia’ as the reason he was away, despite the fact he hadn’t mentioned it – Tiida began to regale his little sister with tales of his current mission. Appropriately censored for a six-year old, of course.

…

Delicate pages crinkled in protest as their reader leafed through them rapidly, scanning the intricate symbols and text printed on them. The flowing, spidery script took several seconds per page for Raising Heart to decipher and translate, but Nanoha had nonetheless got the basic gist of it an hour ago. Now the only things causing her trouble were the details of the spell, and the uncertainty over whether or not she wanted to use it.

“Fate-chan?” she murmured, and the blonde leaned over for the twentieth time or so. She stifled a yawn as she scanned the diagram Nanoha was tapping, wiping away the moisture that formed in her eyes with the back of her hand. It was dark outside, sunset had been hours ago, and the long evening was beginning to take its toll. She didn’t have a watch on her, but a rough guess put the time at somewhere between midnight and 1am.

“Hmm?” she queried blearily. “Ah. Um… yeah, that’s… uh…” She shifted closer, putting her history book down as she craned over Nanoha’s shoulder, breath tickling the brown-haired girl’s cheek, to examine the passage in more detail.

“… yeah, that’s one of… thingies,” she explained, waving her hands vaguely. “Transfuser arrays. It sort of takes the structure of your brain – I think that one’s a bit of the one that does the language-y part of your brain – and overlays it on the animal as a template, and then makes it grow into the same sort of pattern.”

Nanoha nodded distractedly. “Yeah, I get that, it’s just… where’s the maths? I can’t get my head around how it functions… it’s really annoying! It doesn’t seem to have any sort of sane structure, it’s just… higgledy- piggledy, in a big mess all over the place, with bits jammed together any way they’ll work!”

The blonde nodded tiredly, already moving back to the other end of the couch and leaning back on her soft, warm, luxurious orange cushion. Which shifted slightly, and gave her a reproachful look as an errant elbow dug rather hard into its side.

“M’srry Arf,” she mumbled, settling down again and giving her familiar a fond pat, before returning to her reading. Though how much reading she was getting done was questionable, with the amount her eyelids were drooping. Still, she had refused to go to bed until Nanoha did, determined to help her friend master the spell that she was, after all, insisting that the girl try to learn.

“It’s Alhazredian, I think,” she murmured softly, uncertain whether Nanoha could actually hear her speaking at this volume but unable to muster up the energy to raise her voice. “They did things like that. No structure, just… spell bits that had worked before, glued together in any way that worked. S’okay. You don’t really need to understand it, just to learn it and say it by rote.” She paused, calculating numbers in her head. “… I made Arf when I was six,” she decided, after a moment’s consideration. “Or one. Depending on where you count from.” Another yawn overtook her, and the history book quietly slid from her hands, landing with a soft thud on the floor.

Her only reply was a soft grunt as Nanoha flipped back several pages, waiting for the soft pane of light to manifest over the page and fill up with glowing pink kanji. Silence fell for several moments as she stared at the book, as if focusing on it hard enough with her eyes would force it to surrender all of its secrets.

“… Fate-chan?” she asked after a little while. Another incoherent mumble came from the blonde-haired shape curled into the hulking orange mass of wolf-familiar. Even in the small circle of light cast by the standing lamp behind the couch, Arf managed to give off an air of relaxed alertness. Her head raised, ears pricked forward and tail folded gently over her half-asleep master, she looked for all the world like a guard dog waiting for any trespassers to show themselves. Perhaps she was. Nanoha didn’t know. She tried to imagine what Arf must have been like before being made a Familiar, and couldn’t.

And that was the problem.

“Arf-chan?” she whispered, and the long muzzle shifted slightly, pointed ears twitching as the canine flicked her gaze over to the girl. “Is it… _right_ for me to do this?” she asked hesitantly. “I mean… it changes the animal I use it on. Completely. Isn’t it almost like killing them, and replacing them with something else? And Fate-chan said… about how a Familiar is forever. What if… what if something goes wrong?” She sped up, worries and doubts that had been building up ever since Precia had shown her the ritual pouring out in an uninterrupted stream. “What if I change my mind, later? What if we don’t get along? I can’t just… just…” she struggled with even the _idea_ of pulling her magic back from a living, thinking person that it was supporting, even one she didn’t like for some reason. “… but… if I don’t… I’m just…” she looked up at the dark eyes of the wolf, who regarded her solemnly in turn. “… I’m just not sure,” she finished weakly.

Arf was silent for a long moment – so long, indeed, that Nanoha was beginning to think that the wolf had ignored her outburst when she finally replied. A low, rumbling sigh emanated from the large body, and she turned to nuzzle Fate tenderly, striking Nanoha with the contrast between her usual silly antics, and the fierce, serious, fervent pride and loyalty and devotion with which she watched over her master. Would her own Familiar be like that? Or would it be more like Linith, with a warm tone and a maternal air, taking care of her with smiles and soft touches and cheerful optimism? Or something else entirely, something she could even guess at?

 _‘I can’t claim to be unbiased,’_ began Arf, slowly. _‘So this is just me speaking, here. But I would do anything for Fate. Anything at all. I’d fight the Saint King herself if I thought Fate were in danger, and I’d do anything I could to protect her.’_ She looked at Nanoha intently, as if willing her to understand. _‘And I don’t think that’s because of anything in my head enforcing loyalty to her. I follow her… for a lot of reasons. At first, she gave me my life. I wasn’t a person, before. Wasn’t able to think, wasn’t able to know myself. I was just a cub. I don’t even remember it, really. No more than you remember being a baby, I would guess.’_

She looked up at the ceiling, her ears fluttering a little and her tail twitching pensively where it covered Fate. _‘Because of her, I was able to understand who I was. She gave me thought, consciousness, feelings. I swore to protect her without a second thought in return.’_ She sighed, blowing air out with a soft growl. _‘But the more I got to know her, the more I liked her for herself. She’s… kind, and so determined, and a wonderful master. And now I follow her less because she gave me the gift of life, and more because I think she’s someone worth following.’_

Her head swung around again, fixing that laser-intensity stare on Nanoha once more. _‘And she thinks that you’re a good person, too. She likes you. A lot. She’s never really had a friend before, besides me. Too much training, too cooped up in the Garden. You’ve made a big impression on her. Even with the mission to worry about, I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time.’_ She frowned, appearing to realise that she had wandered somewhat off-track.

 _‘I guess what I’m saying is… if Fate-chan thinks you’re a good person, I’m sure your Familiar will as well. And if I’m thankful to Fate-chan for giving me life, and Linith-oneesama is thankful to Precia-sama for giving her life, I’m sure your Familiar will thank you for giving it to them.’_ She nodded firmly, having communicated her point adequately enough to be satisfied, and laid her head down on her paws, still keeping a relaxed state of alertness with one ear cocked and her eyes half-open.

Nanoha settled down on the couch as well, after briefly considering and discarding the notion of going back to her room to sleep. Her gaze drifted along the back of the couch to the small ball of fur that rested on a cushion balanced there, its grey and black fur illuminated by the soft light of a moonbeam.

She had a lot of thinking to do.

…

It had taken two or three weeks of running repairs to patch up the damage that the quake had done, but the Asura was looking much better than it formerly had. A gleaming silver needle slicing through the Dimensional Sea once again, its sensor network was trained on a small region of the world it orbited, the inhabitants of the little blue-green world unaware of the attention being focused on them from beyond the borders of their dimension.

And onboard the ship, its captain marched through the brightly-lit halls towards the primary teleportation bay for long-distance travel, feeling a sense of profound relief for the first time in more than a fortnight. Chrono and Amy followed behind her, both having to trot slightly to keep up with the brisk pace that Lindy set.

The new arrivals were waiting for them in the bay. There were three of them. The man was huge, almost two metres tall, with broad, hulking shoulders and a shock of dark brown hair. He wore a light brown tunic under a darker longcoat, with solid-looking metal boots and an armoured gauntlet on his left hand. Thick brows and eyes like chips of granite gave him a formidable, imposing appearance, and when he spoke, it was in a deep, authoritative rumble.

“Flotilla Admiral Harlaown, I presume,” he said, nodding gravely at Lindy, who returned the gesture.

“I am,” she replied. “And you must be Investigators Grangaitz, Nakajima and Alpine. I’m glad you’re here, we have something of a situation-”

“We’ve read the files,” said one of the women. Her long, lavender hair fell back behind her in soft waves, and her black lace dress was flared at the hips and hemmed in indigo. She was noticeably pregnant, and one hand rested gently on her swollen belly as she continued. “Two hostile AA-rank mages in possession of dimensional-threat-level Lost Logia. We transferred from the Shroud case as soon as your message got through.”

“So why don’t we get started?” the third member of the trio spoke up, her hair a darker shade of violet than her companion’s. It was done up in a ponytail to keep it out of her face, and she wore a tunic of segmented metal armour that reached down to her mid-thigh. The overlapping metal plates covered her upper arms as well, but both forearms bore heavy metal gauntlets that had gear-cylinders fitted around the wrist. She idly tapped her fingers on the left gauntlet’s gear as she spoke, producing a series of quiet clinks as metal touched metal. “How about you brief us quickly on what you’ve managed to do since we read the files a few days ago, and then we get started?” Her voice was warm and friendly, in contrast to the reserved formality of the other woman, but it held an edge of steel command beneath the cheerful tones.

“Yes, of course,” agreed Lindy, half-turning to lead them towards a conference room, before hesitating. “Ah… is it… entirely wise for a pregnant woman to be taking part in field operations, might I ask? After the third trimester,” she glanced down at the other woman’s stomach, “you shouldn’t be on field duty at all. In fact, the guidelines state that…”

The woman in question smiled politely, though the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “I won’t be going into the field,” she explained. “Just remaining onboard the Asura to provide support, and possibly doing a little reconnaissance during periods of inactivity.”

Lindy nodded slowly as she started to lead the group off, her lips drawing into a thin line. “That’s… good to hear. But I really think that you should be on maternity leave… it just seems a dangerous risk to take.”

“Your concern,” the woman informed her haughtily, “is noted, and appreciated. But I will not be in any danger, and in the unlikely event that I _am_ threatened, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself with a minimum of risk to my child or my person. I will be remaining here to support my team.” It was not a statement that invited any further discussion on the topic, and Lindy dropped the topic, turning forward with a disapproving frown. Behind the adults, Chrono and Amy exchanged a glance and winced at the veiled hostility already starting to leak into the atmosphere.

But before things could go any further, all thoughts of the budding animosity were driven out of everyone’s minds, as the intercom screeched in warning and alarms began to sound, a high pitched wail that spoke of the sensors screaming to report the volume of magic they were being bombarded with.

Somewhere on the planet below, a magical reaction of incredible power and potency was taking place.

…

The sensors screamed, and officer cadets at the bridge scrambled to try and track the signal, triangulating the reading from the different sensors on the planet surface to locate the source of the outburst. But this was no small-scale battle, this was a virtual hurricane of magic, condensing mana into a mass so concentrated that the sensors were shorting out in trying to measure it.

Shouts and orders echoed across the bridge as the Asura prepared an active scan to locate the source of the disturbance, a series of pulses of magical resonance directed towards the region from orbit so that the sensors could analyse the reflected wavefronts. Other members of the bridge brought the teleporters online, priming them for rapid transit. As soon as the scanners located the pulse, they’d be right there in full force, ready to apprehend the mages responsible.

On Earth, Momoko jerked violently, head snapping around to stare out of the window as the tray of breakfast she was carrying over to the kitchen table fell to the ground with a crash, unnoticed and unimportant compared to the pressure she could feel pushing and pulling at her from somewhere in the distance. Without a word of explanation, she bolted for the door, running towards the inexplicable sensation that she somehow _knew_ was her daughter.

In her hospital bed, chatting to her new friend, Chikaze Yoshida paused as her vision blurred and the room seemed to sway. It didn’t feel like the horrible experience a few weeks ago, but it was certainly something similar – a force that was swelling and growing somewhere in the city, strong enough that she could feel it expanding even this far away. The brown-haired girl sitting on her bedside gasped for air, letting herself collapse backwards across Chikaze’s legs to avoid falling off the bed entirely. Both of them traded worried glances, wondering fearfully what events this new phenomenon heralded.

…

In the beginning, there was the word. And the word was “I”, and she shouted it at the heart of the universe. And it echoed back, and she knew herself to be herself, and for a fraction of an instant, she was content. But how could one word be enough? How could one word _ever_ be enough, when there was a whole _world_ out there?

Engorging, expanding and recursively self-iterating; the mind of Vesta found itself growing beyond comprehension. The ‘her’ of each instant was incomprehensible to the one a moment before as she grew, flashing through years of development in seconds. How could her old world of senses and emotions and urges possibly compete with this? This alien mind-coldness of clarity and comprehension, of divisions and demarcations, of eloquent expression that allowed her to shape the world in her own mind and understand herself to be a part of the world, yet separate from it?

She looked up, a titanic effort that felt like lifting her head while a mountain sat atop it, and saw the source of the spell that was calling her, singing her into being. Part of her – the fleshy, biological part – saw a young human girl who stirred a faint recognition, standing before her and singing in a high, clear voice, haloed from behind by sunlight and trees. But the rest of her was still caught in the spell that twined their minds together, as the mind of the source offered a guideline for her own to grow along. And through that connection, more intimate and heartfelt than the closest bond of family or friendship imaginable, she _saw_.

She saw vibrant passion and stubborn determination. She saw a burning flame of optimism and a sense of duty and responsibility that fuelled it and was fuelled by it in turn. She saw a pink sun at the girl’s heart that blazed and coruscated with power as vast streams of energy flowed out from it and into her. She saw a keen intellect that eagerly hungered for new things to devour and learn and understand. She saw concern and hope and resolve, and understood each in turn. She could _feel_ the girl’s spirit building hers higher and higher, the sensation of new blocks slotting into place into her head, granting knowledge that it felt as though she had always known, and with every new block of sapience and understanding, her animalistic past slipped further away, into hazy feelings and vague notions. Or perhaps it wasn’t slipping away from her, but rather she was slipping away from it, her experience and memories of each second of the process becoming clearer and sharper.

Whatever the reasons, she could feel that sublime understanding of the girl slipping away, the clarity of the memories too low and too hazy for her newly uplifted mind to make sense of them. She could hear the song coming to an end, and for a moment she grieved at the loss of the transcendent feeling of her mind, her very _self_ growing and learning and expanding by the second to become more than what she had been. But even as the details of what she had seen and understood slipped away, she remembered the feeling she had experienced, and the knowledge of her source, her creator, remained deep within her. And as she rose to her knees – her new, humanoid knees – and raised dark grey eyes to the white-clad girl swaying in exhaustion before her, she knew her for what she was.

“… Master,” she whispered, and lunged to catch her as she fell.

Squashed into her new Familiar’s chest, Nanoha struggled for a moment before extracting herself far enough to breathe. She made no attempt to leave the fiercely protective embrace, and blearily noted that Arf had been right. This wasn’t bad. This wasn’t bad at all. She could feel the love and loyalty and protection flowing out from the strong arms that held her tenderly, like the most precious thing in the world. No, she was glad she had done this, and the exhaustion was well worth it, even though she had never spent so much magic before in her life. She felt completely drained, and wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t got a drop of mana left in her system.

And as she drifted off into sleep, Bardiche spoke sharply, its tone brisk and warning.

[Active scanning detected, Sir,] it stated. [Wide-area reflected pulse.]

Fate bit her lip, forcing down panic. That was _fast_. Faster than she had allowed for. They would have to move quickly.

“You,” she addressed the familiar. “Vesta. Get up, we need to be moving. Bardiche, Raising Heart, shut down. Complete lock-down, everything off. No magic at all.”

The grey-haired cat-woman hissed at her, slate-like eyes regarding her warily. Fate closed her eyes for a second, keeping a tight grip on her temper. “Listen,” she stated, “the TSAB will be here any minute. You know about our situation; that should have been part of the Uplift. So get the hat on her, put on one yourself to cover your ears, and then let’s get _out of here_. And I mean it no active magic from anyone, not even Jackets. If they find us, we’re through.

The clearing they were in was secluded enough that nobody was likely to walk in on them, and Nanoha had declared that the Buddha statue in the centre would be good luck for them, but it was still in a public park. A minute of brisk walking would take them to the road outside the park, where they could melt into the crowds of pedestrians and be impossible to spot.

Fate was already moving towards the dirt path that led out of the little wood they were in as she spoke, pausing to let Vesta catch up with Nanoha limp in her arms. Pulling up the hood of the cheap jumper she was wearing so that her hair was covered and her face was obscured, the blonde reached over to adjust the other girl’s hat as they hurried along the path. She tucked a few locks of brown hair under the brim so that they were completely hidden, and adjusted the strands of fake black hair that stuck out from underneath. Combined with the way she looked small and fragile in Vesta’s arms, the disguise gave Nanoha an almost pixie-like appearance.

They hit the streets and started to hurry away as fast as they could without drawing undue attention. Vesta, pale and feral-looking, attracted stares anyway, but not too many. After a couple of minutes of rushed jogging, Fate felt secure enough to slow down, and they dropped their pace back to a walk.

“Are we safe?” asked Vesta, shaping her mouth awkwardly around the new sensation of talking. Fate didn’t answer, her red eyes roaming over the surroundings in constant motion, and Vesta’s own attention was still mostly focused on her surroundings, and anyone who came within a few metres of her and her charge. Eventually, Fate spared a moment to glance at her, taking her arm and pulling her across a road and into a crowded mall.

“This,” she murmured quietly, “is where we find out.”

…

Zest Grangaitz inhaled deeply, taking a lungful of the clean air in the little clearing. He looked around it assessingly – reasonably wide, with a statue of some fat man sitting cross-legged in the centre of a circle of paving stones. Two stone benches stood on either side of the circle, and the morning light filtered through the canopy of overhanging branches high above them to bathe the clearing in green and gold.

“It happened here. No question about it,” declared Megane. The purple jewel on the back of her black gloves pulsed in confirmation, the Device Asclepius assessing the leftover traces of magic in the clearing. Zest nodded, brows drawing together in a grim frown.

“What were they doing here?” he wondered softly. “I can _feel_ the magic in the air – whatever this was, it took an enormous amount of power. It’s as if a full-power magical battle happened in this clearing alone. What puts out that kind of magic without leaving any marks on the surroundings?”

“They could’ve been using a barrier,” suggested Quint from where she was crouching to examine the ground near the path that led out of the clearing. Pushing herself to her feet with a grunt, she shook her head. “Sorry, Boss. Nothing. We’re not going to be able to track them away, not unless we can get a read on them. Meg?”

“No,” replied the other woman. “Sorry, but everything cuts off here, no magical traces that I can follow lead away from the clearing. Looks like they’re playing things smart.”

“Hn,” Zest grunted. “There aren’t enough nice dumb criminals around. Alright, in that case we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. Quint, you take the city centre, scout around a bit and see if you can find out what the word on the street is about the damage they’ve already caused. Megane, you see if you can-”

All three of them froze as rapid footfalls approached, pounding down the path. Trading glances and nodding, Zest and Quint moved soundlessly back into the trees, taking cover out of sight of the clearing, while Megane sat calmly on one of the benches and rested her hands across her lap, staring up at the vaulted canopy above and looking for all the world like a peaceful mother-to-be enjoying a quiet moment of relaxation.

She looked down from her contemplation of the light breaking through the branches as a brown-haired woman ran into the clearing, alert and looking round frantically. She blinked when she saw Megane, gave the clearing a last round of scrutiny as if to check she hadn’t missed anything, and then walked over to the lavender-haired woman, panting lightly from her exertion.

“Excuse me,” she said, out of breath, “have you seen… a little girl around here? About nine years old, brown hair…” She trailed off as Megane shook her head, looking at her sympathetically. The TSAB Investigator recognised her as the mother of one of the hostile mages, of course, but she did a convincing job of pretending otherwise as she patted the bench beside her.

“Sit down,” she advised, “you look out of breath. And I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen anyone here, though I haven’t been here long. Is she related to you?”

“Ah…” Momoko hesitated briefly, “yes, my daughter. She’s disappeared off somewhere, and…”

Megane nodded sympathetically. “I know the feeling, believe me,” she confided, and patted her belly. “Not with children… this’ll be my first, but some of my colleagues at work… well, the team I’m on is wonderful, but some of the others are impossible to deal with. Always going off and doing their own thing in their own little fiefdoms without listening, and then having the gall to complain about the way I do _my_ job.” She smiled with a tinge of sardonic humour. “Hopefully this little one won’t be as much trouble.”

Momoko chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m afraid not. My experience of young children is that they’re almost universally difficult. My daughter’s friends are as bad as her, in some ways.” She grinned at Megane’s grimace. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do fine. How far along are you?”

“Just past seven months,” smiled Megane genuinely, looking at her belly with fond affection. “And I’m going to be very happy to see my feet again, let me tell you.” She noticed Momoko frowning slightly out of the corner of her eye, watching Megane’s lips move, and decided that a retreat might be in order before the woman noticed the slight delay between speech and sound that arose from her Device translating for her.

“Anyway,” she rose, keeping her face half-turned away as she shaded her eyes and looked upwards contemplatively, “I’ve really spent enough time here, I should probably get going. I wish you the best of luck in tracking your wayward daughter down.”

“Oh no, no,” Momoko insisted, “I know how it feels to be at the waddling stage, and these paths are overgrown. I’ll walk you to the nearest bus stop.”

“I…” Megane hesitated. She wasn’t keen on spending time around the woman, but there was no way to refuse without attracting suspicion. Biting down on the denial, she nodded uncertainly. “Well… alright. Thank you.”

“Oh no, really. It’s no trouble at all,” Momoko smiled as she looped an arm through Megane’s. “Have you picked out a name yet?”

“I… was thinking of Lucinda, or maybe Lutecia, if it’s a girl.”

The walk to the bus stop was awkward, full of uncomfortable pauses and a sense of uneasiness. Momoko seemed to pick up on it about halfway there, and the conversation petered out, leaving them in a self-conscious silence for the rest of the way. When they arrived, the café owner barely spent the time to offer a quick goodbye before escaping, and Megane sighed in relief as she left. Strolling back into the park, she met Zest and Quint at the gate, and glared at them to forestall any comments about what had just happened.

“So,” Quint stated, doing very little to hide her smirk. It was a prompt, and Megane considered for a moment.

“Harlaown’s son is right,” she said softly. “She’s magical. To sense whatever happened from… probably her home, which is some way away… there’s definite potential there. And she’s got power, too. A lot of raw power and no way of knowing she has it, nor any ability to use it. It was a little unnerving, to be honest. We should probably try to avoid magic around her, there’s a good chance that she would be able to sense it.” She sighed. “Regardless, the girl isn’t here and she won’t be coming back if she has any sense.”

“Alright,” nodded Zest. “You go back to the ship and start trying to piece together the readings we got out. I want at the very least some _theories_ on what it was by the time we get back. Quint, you find out how much damage has already been done in exposing magic to the locals. And I’ll see if I can track down our hostiles, or at least get an idea of the general area they might be operating out of. Rendezvous back onboard the ship in three hours. And Megane?”

The summoner raised an elegant eyebrow.

“Try not to get into a fight with the captain, would you?”

She teleported away without a word, and he sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes. Looking at the woman beside him, whose expression suggested she’d rather prefer to have her armoured gauntlets on, he clapped his hands together.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

…

“… Suzuka-chan?”

The purple-haired girl groaned from her place under a small pile of dogs, shifting slightly to dislodge a trio of puppies that had claimed her lap and pushing away a mongrel that had been nuzzling her shoulder. “Mm… what, Arisa-chan?”

“I… Nanoha-chan is… doing this magical girl stuff.”

Suzuka sat up at that, causing a small cascade of animals that had settled on and around her as she took a nap outside on the lawns of her friend’s house in the sunlight while the blonde played with some of the more rambunctious animals. Arisa was sitting hunched over now, though, her knees pulled up to her chest and her face pensive.

“… yeah,” Suzuka agreed. “It’s.. weird, to think of it. Our friend Nanoha, a magical girl of love and justice.” She giggled a little at the thought, before sobering as she remembered the cost that Nanoha had paid for it.

“Yeah, that’s just it. She’s… doing all this good stuff, but she’s had to leave home and there are people after her and… I want to help her.” Arisa sounded resolute now, and Suzuka looked at her warily.

“Uh… I’m… not sure we can really do that, Arisa-chan,” she pointed out. “We don’t know where she is or exactly what she’s doing or… anything, really.”

“Yeah, but… there has to be _something_ we can do! Even if it’s just cheering her up, or bringing her presents – like that kitten!”

Suzuka scowled at that. She had not been happy when Momoko had informed her of the reason behind the disappearance of one of her charges, and had still not quite forgiven the blonde mage for stealing one of her cats, even if it was for an ultimately good cause. At least it had put an end to her worried searching for a missing kitten, and the fear that the curious little thing had managed to get herself run over.

“We just have to find her first!”

But her irritation had to be put aside to head Arisa off on this _now_ , before it developed into something that would get them both into trouble. “Arisa-chan, I _really_ don’t think it would be a good idea to go looking for her. Even if we could _find_ her, isn’t she supposed to be hiding?”

Arisa looked at her as though she had said the sky was green. “Well yeah. That’s why we meet her in _secret_ , see?”

“I don’t like where this is going, Arisa-chan…”

But the blonde was fired up now, and Suzuka knew from long experience that once her friend was set on a path of action, it was extremely difficult if not impossible to deter her from it. Heaving a weary sigh, she shuffled over to where Arisa was sitting and slumped down again.

“Fine then,” she muttered, unwilling to expend the titanic effort it would take to get Arisa to change her mind. “Where do we start?”

…

And across the city, in a high penthouse, the lift door opened with a quiet woosh of air and Arf darted over to welcome her master back. Fate had forbidden her from tagging along, saying that four people were at a greater risk of being caught than three, and that Arf wasn’t required to be there for any reason. It had taken a long time to argue the wolf-familiar down, and she had been in a tense state of nervous waiting ever since the two girls had left.

 _‘Fate-chan!’_ she barked happily as she shot towards the penthouse door, tail wagging furiously, before skidding to a halt at the sight of the pale woman carrying Nanoha. She was a little shorter than Arf’s human form, with grey hair and slate-coloured eyes, and she smelt of cat. Arf had known that the little kitten that had gone out with the girls would be coming back as a familiar, of course, but it was still a surprise. Reflexively, she shifted back to human form, and a staring match between the two Familiars ensued.

“Ahem,” said Fate meaningfully, and both of them jumped slightly as she broke the tense silence. She nodded at Vesta. “If you wouldn’t mind getting her to her room? It’s this way.”

Arf followed as well, curious about the new Familiar. She noted with approval the tender way that Vesta handled her unconscious master supporting the sleeping girl’s head in the crook of her shoulder and treating her as if she were made of glass. She was aware of Arf – that much was obvious from the backwards glance she threw the orange-haired woman – but made no comment about the scrutiny.

She laid Nanoha down carefully on her bed, and stared at her in a kind of child-like wonder. Arf waited until Fate left to get something to eat, and then stepped softly into the room. She was expecting the woman to snap around protectively as she did so, and didn’t react to the sudden movement. Instead, she leant against the door nonchalantly, taking the new member of their little group in with an assessing air.

“It’s an incredible feeling, isn’t it?” she remarked. “Thinking. Understanding. _Being_.”

The ferocity slipped away, Vesta’s features relaxing from their feral cast, and the childish wonder returned as she looked around the room. “Yes,” she breathed. “It’s… amazing.” A giggle escaped as her gaze fell on the desklamp by the bed, and she pounced on the cord, quickly locating the power button and pressing it. Light bloomed from the lamp, and Vesta grinned in delight.

“I can do that! I know how to do that! I know that the button makes the light come on!” she crowed triumphantly. “And I know that it’s called light! And that not-light is called dark!” She breathed in deeply, chest swelling in pride. “I can open _closed doors_ with my _hands_ ” Vesta exhaled slowly, letting the breath go again. “She has made me into a _god_.”

Arf smiled indulgently as the kitten-turned-human played with the light switch some more. She had been like this as well, just after she’d been Uplifted. Torn between the near-fanatical devotion to her master, and the sheer _wonder_ at the world, the sense of discovery at being able to think, feel, speak and understand. Everything had been new, everything had been different. The sky, the ground, the smells – which suddenly meant far _more_ than they once had, now that she had words to put to them. Those first few weeks of sapience had been a heady and intoxicating experience. Seeing someone else go through them was oddly endearing, in a way.

“How good is your hearing?” she prompted, and Vesta froze for a moment as it occurred to her to pay full attention to her senses, basking in the feeling of being able to put definitions and meanings to the things they told her. A look of awe crossed her face.

“I… oh, _wow_. It… heh. That’s…” Her still-feline ears twitched as she turned her head this way and that, obviously listening to sounds that Arf couldn’t detect. She consoled herself with the fact that her sense of smell was still better, and moved on.

“How far away can you hear things, though?” she asked. “Anything in this apartment? Further?”

“Well… I can hear your master in the kitchen,” the cat-woman answered, bemused. She was right, too. Arf could also hear the faint clattering sounds of Fate moving around in the kitchen, preparing herself some food. A sandwich, from the smell of it. “So I suppose… yeah, probably anywhere in the apartment.” Vesta cocked her head, confused. “Why?” Her mouth dropped open slightly as a sudden realisation struck her. “Hey! I can get food out of sealed boxes! And tins! No-one will ever stop me getting food by putting it in a cupboard again!” She blinked, before somehow managing to look even more triumphant. “Cupboard! I know that word now! It is a word that I know! One of lots of words that I know!”

Arf smiled at the madly grinning girl as she capered around elatedly. “In that case, since you’ll be able to hear Nanoha-chan wake up no matter where you are in the apartment… how about we go off and see what you’re capable of?” she said sweetly. “After all, you do want to be able to protect your master as best you can, right? And then we can eat,” she added, providing another irresistible incentive.

Her smile became a grin as Vesta’s instincts warred with one another, but it was a foregone conclusion. Ultimately Arf’s offer won out over the desire to sit and watch her master, and she nodded grudgingly. The orange-haired woman beckoned her out of the room, leading her towards the main room for some basic lessons on shifting between forms and using magic in a support role.

Vesta might be young, but Arf was damned if she was going to go into combat without knowing what she was doing.

…

Elsewhere, as cat and wolf began to test one another’s capabilities, another person was experimenting with something new. Pale hands moved deftly over the dials and switches on the outside of an isolation chamber, as their owner focused with narrowed eyes on the injured animal within. Faint whimpers of distress echoed from within through crystal-clear speakers, and Precia pursed her lips, looking through the reinforced glass at the malevolent glow that emanated from the squirrel-like animal’s chest and the circle of charred flesh that was expanding around it.

“Interesting…” she mused, speaking aloud into the gem of her Device, which was taking verbal notes for her. “But not complete. Hmm. Perhaps with a less chaotic pattern of integration between the Jewel Seed and the-”

She stopped talking and frowned as a wet, fleshy noise came from the speakers and the inside of the window was splattered a dull red. “And more reinforcement,” she added. “To avoid feedback loops.” The glow from within the chamber was brightening, and her frown turned into a scowl.

“Stop that,” she snapped, and a circle formed around her feet, flaring as she wove a crushing net of power around the activating Jewel Seed. The pressure stopped rising abruptly, and the unearthly glow dimmed back down to its previous levels, forced back into the container from whence it had come.

Pausing for a moment to let a coughing fit brought on by the effort pass, she tapped a few more keys, setting the chamber to extract the Jewel Seed from the messy remains and clean itself in preparation for her next experiment. Sighing in annoyance, she moved back over to her desk and gratefully lowered herself into the seat.

“The principle is sound in theory,” she said to her Device, drumming her fingers on the surface of the table irritably. “The problem is modulating the Jewel Seed’s chaotic power output into something coherent and steady, as well as preventing it from degrading the body where the two connect. Anything past a timescale of minutes risks severe damage from mana burns.” She pursed her lips again, staring off into the distance as she considered the problem. Eventually, she blew out another irritated sigh.

“Perhaps… no, this may not be a viable method. Hmm. Alhazred might be able to overcome the problems with it, though. Set a reminder to compile what I have on the procedure into a set of notes. The more they start out knowing, the faster they will be able to succeed.”

She leaned back, closing her eyes tiredly and letting the strange harmony of the Garden’s sounds lull her into a half doze. “Alhazred…” she whispered; her voice brittle and longing. “Just a little longer…”

Alicia’s image filled her mind’s eye, as it so often did these days, her little girl laughing joyfully as she ran and played on the warm grass underneath the sun. Lulled by the memories of happier times and pulled onwards in the hope that she would see them again someday, Precia drifted off to sleep, the exhaustion of a full day and night spent working finally catching up to her. Carefully, quietly, Linith crept into the room as her mistress’s breathing evened out. She carried a warm blanket, which she spread over the sleeping woman tenderly, and then turned to look at the chamber. It still had a splash of arterial crimson on the inside of the reinforced glass plate, and the cat-woman sighed heavily.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing, Precia-sama…” she murmured in concern, before yawning. “Oh… my.” She blinked in faint embarrassment as she recognised her own tiredness, allowing herself a self-amused little smirk at having failed to notice it as she loitered outside the door, having been banned from the lab while Precia was working there. Stepping over, she closed the sealed unit again and watched for a second as the automatic cleansing system thrummed into life, removing the last few traces of scarlet viscera.

A few moments later, two sets of slow, even breathing occupied the room, the latter from the sandy-haired cat curled up on her mistress’s lap, purring softly as she let herself rest.

…


	9. Chapter Eight

Laughter, high and clear, rang through the skies of an unadministered world near Earth. Soft grass rustled in a sunny meadow, where a picnic basket sat under an old tree, filled to the brim with treats. High above it, above even the fluffy clouds that drifted across the sky like lazy barges on a gentle stream, a bright orange Frisbee cast a fleeting shadow on the white banks below as it hurtled through the air on a parabolic arc.

Its flight was abruptly broken as a pink comet soared underneath it. Flipping over to briefly face upwards as she passed beneath her target, Nanoha grabbed it as it came within reach. She followed the motion through into an upwards corkscrew, doing a passable imitation of a dolphin jumping out of the water as she allowed herself to fall backwards and plummet down again from the apex of her improvised loop-the-loop.

“Woo hoo!” she cried gleefully, and her arm whipped out as she levelled out, her downward momentum flowing into horizontal as she hurled the Frisbee out again, backed both by the force of her throw and the impressive speed she was moving at.

“Not bad,” came a shout from nearby. Fate grinned, flipped over and blurred into motion, a yellow streak following the errant toy as it began to fall towards the clouds. “But not fast enough!” Nanoha grinned as she curved around to follow her friend, keeping a little way back so that she would be able to follow Fate’s next shot in whichever direction she chose to send it.

The blonde never got the chance, though. As she neared the spinning disk, the air beside it rippled, wavering as an illusion fell away to reveal a huge tigress, her striped fur a mix of grey and black. Bounding forward from the position she had been hovering in, she lunged at the toy with a whooping cry.

_‘Super-special Vesta sneak attack! Haa!’_

Scything jaws caught the Frisbee before Fate’s fingers could close on it, and a toss of the cat-familiar’s head sent it spinning downwards into the clouds. Fate pulled up sharply, glaring at Vesta in indignant surprise, and shot down after it as Nanoha dived past her in pursuit.

Nanoha was laughing as she plunged into the cloud, her Barrier Jacket keeping the cold and moisture away from her. This had been a good idea, coming out to play like this. Linith had insisted that they take some time off, firmly ordering Fate to do something to relax before she worked herself into the ground from stress and exhaustion. She hadn’t liked it, but when Nanoha had suggested a way of combining aerial combat training with fun, she had agreed readily enough. The fact that it allowed Vesta to practice the illusion magic that she seemed to have a natural affinity for was just the icing on the cake. Arf had declined to come along with them, stating the need for someone to keep watch from the penthouse in case of any Jewel Seed activations.

Swooping down on a gentle arc to catch the tumbling disk, she examined it with a pout on her face. Vesta’s jaws had done a number on the soft plastic, and the aerodynamic curves of the thing were mangled beyond repair. Nanoha sighed in exasperation as Fate dropped down to hover beside her, passing the dead Frisbee over to her friend with a mournful shake of her head.

“I think that means the game is over,” she commented, looking up as Vesta emerged from the bottom of the clouds. Unlike the girls, she had no Barrier Jacket protecting her, and was therefore sodden and shivering slightly. It didn’t seem to have put her off too much, though, and her tail was lashing excitedly as she flew down towards them, growling happily.

 _’I got it, I got it!’_ she crowed triumphantly. _’Throw it again, I want to practice pouncing some more! Pretty please?’_ The sight of a tigress who stood level with Nanoha’s chest looking at her imploringly was a rather disconcerting one, and Nanoha had to cover her mouth with a hand to hold in a giggle at the strange picture it made for.

“Sorry, Vesta,” she said, holding up the mangled Frisbee by way of evidence. “It’s too damaged to fly now.” She giggled again at the crestfallen look on her familiar’s face. “Don’t look like that, silly. I’ll get you a new one.” Throwing her arms around Vesta’s neck in a hug, she enjoyed the silky feel of fur against her cheek, luxuriating in the stress-free environment and the way that she now had a cuddly familiar she could hug whenever she wanted.

The soft susurrus of rain broke her from her reverie and she looked up, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the bad weather that sounded like it was coming their way. Their game had wound up taking them a fair distance from the meadow where their picnic basket waited, into the path of an oncoming shower. As she saw the direction the front was coming from, though, she gasped.

“Oh…”

The murmur slipped out of her without conscious direction. Before her, arcing across the sky like a bridge to some nameless heaven, hung a glittering rainbow that shimmered in the rainfall that had formed it as the light shone through the clouds.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, glancing at Fate. The other girl seemed similarly impressed, deep red eyes taking in the sight with a sense of awed wonder, as if she’d never seen a rainbow before. And… actually, Nanoha realised with a sick feeling, perhaps she hadn’t. She’d grown up on the Garden, after all, where there were no skies or rain. Her brief forays off it may not have ever put her in a position to notice one before. It was definitely likely she’d never seen one as vibrant and vivid as this, the colours splashed through the air like the paints of a cosmic god, streaked through the atmosphere in broad, bold stripes that faded to soft pastels at the edges.

A smile touched Nanoha’s lips as she turned more fully to her friend. “You know,” she said slyly. “I’ve heard stories that if you can fly through a rainbow, you get granted a single wish for anything you want.” Her eyes sparkled excitedly. “Let’s try it!”

Fate’s answering smile was puzzled, a slight frown creasing her face as she quirked an eyebrow. “Um… are you sure?” she questioned hesitantly, but Nanoha’s enthusiasm was not to be denied.

“Vesta!” she ordered. “Come on! Jump in! Oh, uh… Raising Heart?”

[Alright, my master,] chimed the Device, and Nanoha’s jacket shifted, flowing backwards from the nape of her neck as material folded down into a hood. It had taken a long time to program the addition into her Barrier Jacket, but she felt the result was well worth the time and effort.

Letting out a happy meow, Vesta shone white for a second, her silhouette shrinking and proportions changing as she returned to her kitten form. Nanoha felt the tug on her magic lessen proportionally, this smaller form taking far less magic to maintain. Once again the size that they had met at, Vesta mewled unhappily at the discovery that while she had shrunk, the amount of water in her coat had not. As a result, where she had been damp, she was now sodden.

 _‘I’m all wet!’_ she complained, jumping onto Nanoha’s arm and shaking herself off to dry out somewhat before proceeding. Running along her master’s arm and pausing on her shoulder for a second to nuzzle her cheek, she hopped into the white cocoon of the hood. Wriggling around to find a position from which she could peer forward over Nanoha’s shoulder or turn around to survey what was behind them with equal ease, she mewled again.

_‘Okay, master! Let’s go!’_

Nanoha was off like a shot, racing across the sky towards her goal. The clouds blurred past as she flew, and she closed her eyes, distantly hearing Fate calling her from behind as she quickly made up Nanoha’s headstart. She wasn’t focusing on that, though. Her attention was fixed on the glory of the wind whistling around her, the landscape far below that looked like a finely painted model and the beautiful varicoloured archway that she was shooting towards. Wreathed in sakura-blossom light, ignoring the rain as she plunged into it, she flew.

And flew.

And flew, the exhilaration draining as the beauty of the rainbow remained stubbornly distant, beyond her grasp. The further and faster she pushed herself, the more it receded away from her, tantalising and gorgeous, a dream-like image that she couldn’t catch.

 _‘Master?’_ Vesta wriggled, poking her head up over Nanoha’s shoulder. _‘What’s wrong, why are we slowing down?’_

Panting hard, Nanoha shook her head wordlessly, staring forward through eyes that were beginning to grow wet with tears from the wind whipping past and the frustration. Fate dropped down beside her, expression sympathetic.

“I tried to tell you,” she said quietly. “But you didn’t seem to hear. It’s just an illusion. Beautiful to look at, but you can’t ever reach it, or touch it.”

An uncomfortable silence fell, as both girls realised the double meaning in the words and glanced at one another, afraid to voice it. Hovering in the sky, the soft rain pattering down around them, they looked at each other and their unreachable goal, neither wanting to be the first to put words to the horrible question.

Then Fate shook her head fiercely. “No,” she declared, almost angrily. “No, it’s not the same. Not this time. Some goals you can reach, some dreams you can achieve.” She grabbed Nanoha’s hands, squeezing them tightly and holding her gaze. “Maybe the big things, like everything ever being perfect or… or other things like that, maybe you can’t ever quite get to them. But _this_ … this is something we can do. Something we _will_ do.”

Buoyed by the determined words, Nanoha nodded, hands trembling where Fate gripped them. For a moment, they floated there in the rain, silhouetted by the rainbow and the sunlight through the clouds, joined by shared purpose.

The moment was broken by Vesta deciding that she was quite cold and wet enough as it was, and that she was not going to stand for getting any colder or wetter. Pawing the folds of the hood up over her body, she twisted up to the nearest source of warmth available, curling around Nanoha’s neck like a living fur boa and dragging the hood with her as a blanket-like form of cover. Since her fur was still beaded with moisture from her trip through the clouds, this drew a shriek of protest from the girl and thoroughly shattered the awkward moment.

“Vesta! Aaaah, you’re freezing! S-stop that! Get off!” She grabbed at the kitten, who stubbornly wriggled away from the clutching hands, further into the warmth and safety of Nanoha’s jacket.

“Vestaaaa! Oh, I am learning a spell just for spraying water in your face if you don’t s- ahh! That’s _cold!_ ” Grabbing furiously at the fast-moving mass under her outer coat, Nanoha finally hauled the grey and black-striped kitten out by the scruff of the neck, glaring at her. Insofar as she was able to, Vesta looked slightly sheepish.

_‘Um… sorry?’_

“Perhaps,” interjected Fate, fighting back a smirk of amusement, “we should get down to ground level. And out of the rain.” She half-shrugged, with a wry smile. “I don’t think we can keep playing Frisbee anymore.”

…

It only took the girls ten minutes or so to leave the raincloud behind and get back to their picnic spot. The warm meadow was still sunny, and Vesta returned to her larger size as she leapt from Nanoha’s shoulder to the ground, shaking herself off huffily and padding around to find the warmest spot to dry off in. Eventually deciding on a particularly bright patch just beyond the shadow cast by the wide, leafy boughs of the old oak above them, she flopped down bonelessly and began to emit a low, rumbling purr.

“Arf does that,” Fate noted. “When she lies down and it’s like she turns into a fluffy sack of fur. It makes her a good pillow. She can’t purr properly, though. I think that’s a thing that only cats can do.” She cracked the lid of the picnic basket open, assessing what was inside. “Wow, Linith really went all out. We have a feast here.” Her questing fingers found paper as she dug between a carefully wrapped bread roll and some fruit, and she pulled the note out.

“Fate-chan and Nanoha-chan,” she read. “It’s good to know you’re relaxing and taking some time off. I hope you like the dinner I packed for you, I made sure to include Fate’s favourites and some things I think Nanoha will like. There are some treats for Vesta and Arf as well.”

 _‘I get treats?’_ Vesta’s head perked up, ears fluttering with interest. _‘Is there any of that yummy cat-food that comes in tins? Because that’s really yummy, way yummier than human food – not that I’m saying human food isn’t yummy, but cat food is proper food, so it’s even better! And we’ve almost run out of it.’_ She nudged Nanoha, who had sat down beside her. _‘You should try some, you know. It’s really tasty. And healthy, too! It has everything you need to give you good oral hygiene. It says so.’_

“Don’t listen to her on that score,” warned Fate, “Her sense of taste is different to yours. And from experience, it doesn’t work like that with dog food, so I don’t see why cat food would be any different.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust, remembering her own discovery of the fact, and continued digging parcels of food out of the woven basket. Pulling out a dark green blanket, she tossed it at Nanoha with a nod towards the ground next to Vesta’s lounging form. “Spread that out, would you? That way we won’t get grass all over us.”

Nanoha nodded, shaking out the blanket and laying it down, then slumping down herself to lie on her back, hands behind her head, staring up at the blue sky and white clouds, with occasional glints of sunshine playing through the leaves to project a dappled pattern of light and shadow on her face. She sighed happily as Fate sank onto the blanket beside her and began setting out the different food containers.

“This is nice,” she smiled, eyes closing most of the way as she basked in the sun. “It’s a pity Arf couldn’t come. I hope she’s not lonely back at the penthouse all by herself.”

…

“Hmm hmm hmmm… ramen ramen hmm… guarding the hmm… hmm hmm hmm hmm hmmm…”

A world away, soft humming echoed through the penthouse kitchen as the sole occupant waited for the kettle to boil. Adding a skip to her step as it pinged, she poured the boiling water into the cup of instant ramen waiting on the side and happily danced through into the main room with it, idly weaving another passive detection spell as she did so. Satisfied that nothing was out of the ordinary, she set her prize down by the window where she could look out at the city, and dug in gleefully.

…

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Fate assured her. “Besides, we can cover some of her patrols for her when we get back, as a reward.”

“Yeah, okay.” Nanoha nodded, her sense of fairness satisfied by the ruling. “That sounds good. So, Vesta!” She nudged the gently purring lump of grey and black beside her, who had mostly dried off in the sun by now. “How did you like flying so high?”

The purring didn’t cease for a second. _‘It was fun, I guess.’_ Vesta replied lazily. _‘And the Disk-Thing-I-Can't-Remember-The-Name-Of was fun, too. Though it would be better if it was another shape. Like a bird, maybe. Especially since you can eat birds. Oh, oh, or if it was glowy!’_

Fate giggled, rolling over and selecting a roll to munch on. “We’ll see what we can do. What about your combat skills? How is your practice going?” Plucking a crunchy, biscuit-like snack from the hamper, she tossed towards the tigress, who caught it with a sideways snap of her jaws.

 _‘Mmm,’_ she growled appreciatively. _‘Tasty. And yeah, my fighting lessons have been going well. I can cover myself, and a little bit of the space around me. And Arf-senpai says that I’m a natural at close combat, so I can protect master while she shoots things.’_ She yawned hugely, sharp teeth glinting in the light as four-inch fangs meshed smoothly back together. _‘Are we sure we’ll have to fight again, though? Do we really need the Jewel Seeds?’_

“Of course we do!” exclaimed Nanoha, looking up from her investigation of a plate of what appeared to be some sort of blue-ish lettuce. “We have to get them to save Alicia-chan!”

 _‘No, I mean… we need them for power, right?’_ Vesta stretched out a paw and hooked a bowl of meatballs towards her, snaffling a few up as she waited for Fate’s nod. _‘But… there’s mana all around us. At least, I think there is, right? Lots more when there’s a battle, cause it leaks out from spells, but there’s always a little bit. So why don’t we just sort of collect that, instead?’_

Fate shifted, pulling herself further into a sitting position to get away from a sunbeam in her eyes. Thoughtfully pouring herself a glass of a sparkling red cordial, and passing another to Nanoha, she nodded slowly. “It’s… true that you do get ambient mana around,” she affirmed, slipping into the measured voice she adopted when repeating what she had been taught, “more of it on some worlds, less of it on others. Type-3 worlds tend to have the most, Mother says, which is why you get animals that use magic on them, using some of what’s in the air. But even there, the difference in the amounts we’re talking about…” she paused, considering. “It would be like… if magic were water, even the worlds with a lot of magic are like those clouds we went through, yes? Lots of water, but really spread out and hard to collect.”

Vesta nodded, and Nanoha followed suit, interested in where the topic was going. Brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes and pointing Nanoha towards a bowl of cheese wedges, Fate continued. “Well, using the same sort of magic-as-water thing? A Linker Core is like… a whole swimming pool, or maybe even a big lake for people like us, all packed down tight into our body. Much more concentrated.” She frowned slightly, as if reading aloud from a textbook. “It’s why it’s really hard to do magic on someone’s insides, like forcing them to go to sleep, or reading their thoughts, or… or creating a shooting spell inside them, say.” Nanoha shuddered at that, and Fate ducked her head apologetically. “Um… sorry. But yes, you can’t really do that sort of thing, because the person’s own magic interferes with yours. You can only do it if you have special spells for it – I can’t remember any examples, but apparently a few Belkan lineages still have them – or if they’re magically empty like you were after the quake… it can be a problem for medics, even, and I think they usually put magical Limiters on people who are going to undergo surgery, so that their magic doesn’t make something go wrong with the healing spells.”

She took another sip of her cordial, enjoying the taste and gathering her thoughts for a second. “So… yes. Background mana is like clouds. Linker Cores are like ponds, or swimming pools, or lakes. And then you have Jewel Seeds.” She held out her hand, an image of one of the innocent-looking blue gemstones hovering above it. “And… Mother showed me the numbers, but I’m not sure I fully got the scale. They were really big numbers. It’s… it’s like Jewel Seeds are whole _oceans_ packed down into tiny jewels. Trying to get that much water from clouds would take years – decades, even, and even if you could do it, you’d have no way of storing it. Mana cartridges can pack mana down about as well as a Linker Core, but to get as much magic as a dozen Jewel Seeds… you’d need a battery the size of the Garden of Time. Bigger, even. And there are all sorts of complicated things that make it even harder. Basically, we need the Jewel Seeds, because they’re the only things that have enough energy in them for the spell to work. Without them, Alicia doesn’t stand a chance.”

A quiet, reflective silence fell. Fate fiddled with a curled vegetable that sort of looked a bit like a brown, hard-crusted cucumber, cracking it open to reveal a row of large white beans inside. “So,” she said firmly, “we’ll have to make sure that the TSAB don’t manage to get any more of the Jewel Seeds, because every last one that we can get will be valuable. Okay?” Two intent nods met her, and she offered Nanoha a couple of the beans. “Right then. Now, Linith said we were meant to be relaxing, so talk about something happier.” She tilted her head curiously. “Like your world. What’s it like?”

Nanoha blinked, momentarily thrown. “Um… what part of it?” she asked, unsure of where to start describing an entire planet. Fate’s deep red gaze fixed on her, attentive and interested.

“How about your school?” she suggested. “I saw a little bit of it, but not much. And I never really went anywhere like that, in my memories or Alicia’s. You friends seemed nice, though. What’s it like, learning there?”

Half-smiling wistfully at the reminder of her friends, Nanoha took a deep breath. “Well,” she began, “um… Arisa, Suzuka and I met a long time ago, when we had a bit of a disagreement…”

…

“… so I got dragged in to see the principal, of course, but they’d been leaving me out of stuff like that since I started aiming for the TSAB, so I could honestly say that I didn’t know anything, and he had to let me off – though boy, was he unhappy about it! I went down to see what was going on, but they’d already cleared the ramps away by then, and a crowd was starting to gather cause of, you know, the whole groundcar-on-the-roof thing, so I decided to get out of there before any more teachers showed up…”

Flat on her back on a padded bench, Heidi let Mei’s chatter wash over her, breathing deeply and pumping the heavy barbell up and down, ignoring the sweat trickling across her forehead. Hefting the thing one last time, she hooked it onto the rack above her and sat up, wincing at the soreness in her arms and shoulders.

“Do you _ever_ stop talking?” she asked, genuinely curious. Mei shot her a grin from where she was jogging on a moving track, short green hair bouncing with every step.

“Nope!” she said cheerfully. Despite her denial, Heidi could see that she was breathing fairly heavily – unsurprising, as she’d been jogging for more than an hour. The younger girl had taken her shirt off some twenty minutes ago, and was now only wearing a sports bra and shorts as she ran. Frowning, Heidi wrenched her eyes away, trying to convince herself that she hadn’t been staring. Searching for another topic to focus her attention on, she slid round on the bench and grabbed a couple of dumbbells to work with as she glanced around.

Her gaze lit upon the third member of their little team, and a wry smile curled her lips in amusement. “Well,” she murmured. “Someone’s having a good time, at least.”

Mei followed her gaze and stifled a giggle. Across the gym, their illustrious leader was doing pullups on the bars, arms curling as he raised his body up and down. He had also discarded his shirt at some point, and seemed oblivious to the fact that Rizu had stopped doing situps and was looking at him with rather wide eyes. The faint blush on her cheeks seemed to indicate that she liked what she saw.

Throwing Mei a conspiratorial smirk, Heidi very deliberately held out one of her dumbbells and dropped it. The thud sounded clearly over the quiet background music that was playing from the speakers in one corner, and all heads turned to her, two of them startled.

“Sorry,” she apologised nonchalantly. “I guess I slipped.” Tiida nodded tiredly and went back to his workout, but Rizu’s eyes flicked up to Heidi’s. The blonde raised an amused eyebrow and nodded at Tiida, as Mei gave her sister a grin and a thumbs up.

The faint blush quickly deepening to a mortified crimson at having been caught staring, Rizu hastily returned to doing situps. Heidi was fairly sure that she caught a slight, shy smile on her teammate’s face, though, and nodded to herself in satisfaction. Breaking the quiet girl out of her shell had been a side project of hers since they’d first met. It was nice to see that it seemed to finally be working.

Tiida pushed them hard for another couple of hours. The arrival of the elite unit onboard seemed to have spurred him into setting a more aggressive schedule for improvement, though Heidi had to admit that it felt like it was working. They wouldn’t get a chance to test that theory for a while, of course, but she was intending to do her best to pay the Testarossa girl back in spades for that point-blank blast on the rooftop. Finally finishing her last set, she put the weights back on their stands and rose to her feet as Tiida turned the music off.

“Alright,” he said, “let’s hit the showers, then you can have some downtime.”

The team set the ship’s gym back to the pristine condition they had found it in, ready for anyone else who wanted to use it, and then proceeded towards the showers. A thought striking her, Heidi nudged Mei, who was dragging her feet slightly after several hours of non-stop running.

“Hey,” she queried, “how did you even get accepted by the TSAB with that kind of disciplinary record? Groundcars on the school roof? Not to mention that food fight you were talking about.”

“O-oh, no,” Rizu cut in, looking up. “T-trust me, Heidi. She's improved a lot over the last two years. Mama was getting very worried about how she was turning out, and, y-you know, had her going to psychologists and things, but she turned herself around a-all on her own, about when I joined the TSAB. She said she d-didn’t want to leave me all alone, and that she wanted to m-make a difference l-like… um…” her head dropped and she stared at her feet, glancing worriedly at Mei out of the corner of her eye. Mei didn’t seem upset, though, and shrugged philosophically.

“Like my dad,” she finished, and there was a slight tinge of pain in her nonchalant tone. “He was in the Navy, and… well… he was with the Estia, back in ‘fifty four.” She stared off into the distance for a few seconds contemplatively. “I was four.”

Tiida regarded her gravely. “I’m sorry,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged. “Eh, I didn’t really know him very well. Can’t remember much about him, either. But yeah, when Rizu joined the Bureau, it was kind of a shock to the system, you know? Sort of… either I could keep screwing around and pulling pranks, or actually make something of myself. So… I started putting some effort in. Just about scraped through, though I think it was a close thing once or twice. Mum was really worried about me, so that helped. I didn’t want to disappoint her.”

Going with the change in topic, Heidi rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know all about being a problem for your parents. I was involved in Representativist groups, which would have been a real problem for my mother if it had got out. It's the reason she let me go offworld for this, on the exchange programme and then… well, it’s much easier for her if she has my older sister being nice and conformist and okay with the illegitimate oligarchy of entrenched interests in the…” Heidi trailed off at the familiar looks of confusion she was getting, and shrugged dismissively. “Oh, internal political things. There’s a reason the Powers-That-Be want us to stay an Aligned World, rather than make the jump to Administered. If we were Administered, they’d have to hold proper elections, and… well, Mother _is_ one of those Powers-That-Be. I got _so_ yelled at when she had to bail me when I was 11 for being at an illegal rally, and she had real problems keeping that off the books.”

Tiida sighed dramatically, flashing a dry smile. “So my training squad wound up with one juvenile delinquent, one pre-pubescent political activist, and one normal girl. You know, sometimes I wonder who picks these combinations out, and what I’ve ever done to annoy them.”

Rizu giggled, and Heidi let slip a chuckle. Mei patted him on the arm in faux sympathy. “Hey, look at is this way,” she offered, “if you can make a working team out of _us_ , you can make one out of anybody.”

“Well, I suppose that’s true… though…”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a thundering crash from one of the rooms they were passing that made all four of them jump. Peering around the door, their eyes went wide and Mei gave a low, impressed whistle.

Breathing deeply and clad in a stripped-down training jacket, her heavily muscled arms flexing with the weight, Quint Nakajima hefted a kettlebell that must have weighed at least at least half as much as she did up over her head in a single fluid movement. Her metal-clad hands shifted grip fluidly on the cannonball’s handle as she brought it back down again. Despite her lowering it as gently as possible, it still gave a ringing crash as it hit the floor again. Her back to the door, she didn’t appear to notice the backup squad, or give any sign she was aware of their presence.

“Okay,” whispered Mei in a small voice as they backed away from the heavy weights room and continued towards the showers, “now I see why they’re an elite team. Remind me not to annoy her.”

“I don’t think even you’ll need reminding on that score,” replied Heidi, somewhat shaken by the sight. She’d known the three elite mages were powerful, but hadn’t realised just what that meant in terms of raw force. Now with some idea of what they were capable of, she was almost afraid to see them in actual combat.

…

Steam billowed in the shower stalls as hot water battered down, soothing sore muscles and drumming a blissful rhythm over the skin of the exhausted girls. Heidi was almost completely gone, occasionally moaning happily as she worked the shampoo into her hair and massaged her aching head. Mei, however, was a little more talkative.

“Sooo…” she grinned, glancing in the direction of Rizu’s stall as if she could see through the partition between them. “Tiida’s kind of a hunk, huh?”

A wordless squeak was her only answer, and her grin grew larger. “I mean, you could totally check out his abs as he was doing those pull-ups. Heck, even I have to admit he’s a bit of a hottie. What do you think, sis?”

“I… um… Lanster-san looks… um… n-nice, I think?”

Mischief sparkled in blue eyes, one darker than the other. “So…” she teased, dragging the word out, “when are you going ask him out?”

There was a squeak and a clatter from the neighbouring stall, and a bar of soap bounced under the partition, coming to rest against Mei’s feet. Giggling, she kicked it back, washing the last of the shampoo out of her hair and starting to rinse herself off.

“Okay, okay,” she apologised, finishing up and nudging the door of the shower door open with her foot. Screwing her eyes shut to avoid getting water in them, she groped around for a towel for a few seconds before her questing fingers found the soft material. Drying herself off, she looked up as a blushing Rizu exited her own shower stall, gaze fixed on her feet.

“I’ll stop teasing, if you really want me to,” she continued, and reached over to give her sister a light punch to the shoulder as she passed a second towel over. “But seriously, girl, you gotta start being more assertive! If you like him, try it out and see if it goes somewhere! What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“Well,” cut in a new voice, “actually quite a lot.”

Both girls jumped, and the door to Heidi’s stall banged open as she leaned out quickly. Leaning against the door, the woman they had seen weightlifting only a quarter of an hour previously grinned at them humourlessly. Somehow, she had managed to get all the way into the room without any of them noticing her. Out of the corner of her eye, Mei noticed Heidi shiver slightly, and the ash-blonde retreated back into her shower cubicle.

“It rarely ends in prettiness, getting romantically attached to someone in your direct command chain,” Quint advised, pushing herself off the wall and strolling over. Mei tried not to stare, and failed miserably. The woman was built like a tank, corded muscles clearly evident under the blocky lines of her body. While she retained a certain sleekness to her frame that the veritable mountain that was her team leader lacked, she still looked as though she had been carved out of solid metal. Mei was put in mind of the larger kinds of big cat she’d seen on Type-1 worlds. Not the sleek, agile ones that flowed like water as they stalked their prey; but the ones that out-massed humans by a factor of three and moved with the casual, unstoppable force of a natural disaster.

Tapping something on the back of her right gauntlet, Quint’s training jacket shimmered and disappeared, leaving her in a simple shirt and shorts. Slipping the gauntlets off and stowing them in one of the lockers, she began to strip, rolling her head as she did so to the accompaniment of a series of cracking noises that made Rizu wince.

“Now, that said,” she carried on, glancing at the healer, “it’s not a completely bad idea. You just have to wait a little while until this mission blows over and you get assigned to a different team. Once he’s not one of your direct superiors, the whole chain-of-command thing is less of a problem. And for what it’s worth, I’ll wish you good luck with it. He seems like an okay sort, though you may need to clobber him a couple of times before he gets the message that you like him.”

She winked, grinning. “I know I had to bash it into Genya’s skull that I had a thing for him, oblivious as he was. Seems to be a common theme in guys that age. Though…” she chuckled, “I suppose the girls aren’t much better, either. Might just be the idiocy of youth, I guess.”

Mei found herself warming to this woman. Despite her formidable appearance, she seemed friendly enough, and if she was cracking jokes, she couldn’t be all bad. Besides, she was supporting Mei’s personal project, which was always a plus.

“So you agree that they should get together?” she asked. Quint shook her head, holding her hands up in denial.

“Whoa there, hold it. I’m fine on giving advice and warnings, but I’m not getting involved in this personally. That’s more Megane’s thing, and then only when she likes the people involved.” She paused, thoughtfully. “Yeah, uh… I should probably apologise for her being a bit… caustic. She’s lovely to her friends, but she tends to turn on the ‘ice-queen Belkan-era noble’ thing around strangers. Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing personal. The Admiral just pushed a few of her buttons, that’s all.” She turned to Rizu, who appeared to be trying to hide behind her towel. “You, kid? I’d wait until all of this Jewel Seed mayhem is over, and then maybe sit your beau down for a talk, or something. And be careful about regulations if you both decide to go ahead with it. Like I said, good luck if you do. I’ve seen it work before.”

“… Belkan noble?” Heidi slid out of her stall, catching the towel that Mei tossed to her and wrapping it round herself. “I didn’t realise Investigator Alpine was from a noble line.”

Quint shrugged. “Yeah, it’s not something that she brags about. The lands are just some crummy little wasteland on a Type-5 that take more money to maintain than she gets from them, and the title doesn’t really mean much anymore. The summoning is about the only halfway decent thing she got from it. I get the impression she’s glad to be away from the place.” Chucking her bra into the locker, she swept a wave of lavender hair that had fallen forward back over her shoulder and out of her face.

“I suppose that would explain a few things…” Heidi mused as Quint stood. The older woman shrugged again.

“Yeah, well. Don’t bug her about it, it annoys her. Just keep it in mind when she turns on the haughtiness. And be careful.” She fixed them all with a serious look. “Not just in the budding romance, either. Keep your mind on the job until this is over and done with. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting in half an hour, so I need to get showered and changed.” With a last parting nod, she slid into one of the stalls and closed the door behind her. The water started up a few seconds later, along with the sound of cheerful, if slightly off-key, whistling.

…

“But master! I’m _tired!_ And it’s way too bulky!”

Vesta was, to her credit, vaguely aware that whining about the situation she found herself in was not likely to change her human’s mind. Nevertheless, she was not one to back down in the face of fierce opposition or impossible odds, and gave it as good an attempt as she was able to.

Unfortunately, even adopting the pleading expression that instinct told her had always been successful in the past did not appear to have any significant impact on the brown-haired girl. Maybe it was because she was in her human form? She gave brief thought to the possibility of changing back, but was cut off by Nanoha’s eyes narrowing.

“Don’t you _dare_ change while you’re wearing that, Vesta,” she ordered. “You’re huge in your cat form! You’ll rip it to shreds!”

‘It’ was the latest in a long sequence of Jackets that her esteemed master had seen fit to try out on her. Which technically meant that it probably wouldn’t _rip_ if she changed form, but pointing that out wasn’t likely to help. Vesta sighed gustily. While her master was undoubtedly the most wonderful and brilliant human ever to walk the earth, she was forced to admit that when it came to clothing and style, she was…

“Oh, oh! I know! Hang on, let me look up how to make scarves. I know I saw them in here somewhere…”

… lacking.

“Um. Master?” she queried, desperate to avoid yet another scaled-up variant of her master’s school uniform. “Aren’t there… other sources you could be using?”

“Mmm?” Nanoha was preoccupied with searching through the template pack on Raising Heart, and didn’t really respond. Vesta gulped, imagining a loosely knit scarf settling around her shoulders in eye-searing pink, and went for broke.

“Like… on the internet! Those online book-thingies that stores do! And… and I bet that there are, like, some that load of pictures of clothes... like, lots of them, and descriptions of them, and… you could use those for inspiration!” She held her breath, hoping against hope, as Nanoha tilted her head in thought.

“… yeah, okay then!” the girl decided, and her familiar breathed a silent sigh of profound relief. “So, where can we find them? Hmm… Raising Heart? Can you search for something like that?”

[Alright, my master. Connecting to the internet and running a search.] A holographic window bloomed into visibility above the red gem, and flickered briefly as the Intelligent Device searched for something that matched its master’s wishes. After a few seconds, the display stabilised into a plain white background beset by pictures.

“Ahhh!” Nanoha leaned forward to examine them, and Vesta craned around her to see as well. While still not quite the height of elegance, she decided, they were at least better than the fashion choices of a nine-year old.

“Hey, you would look good in that one!” she pointed out, motioning to a pale yellow sundress. Nanoha threw her a suspicious look. “No, really!” Vesta protested. “You would!”

“Hmm,” Nanoha responded sceptically, a smile playing about her lips. “ _I_ think you just want to copy it from me when you’re in your little-girl form.”

“Well… yes, I’d look good in it too,” Vesta admitted. “Which is why you should use it! We could match!” She turned hopeful eyes on her master, who giggled.

“Maybe later, Vesta-chan. For now, we’re trying to find clothes for your adult form.”

The cat-familiar sighed gustily. “Can we at least not have any more… anything else like what Arf-senpai wears?” Nanoha blushed faintly at the reminder. Some of the basic templates that had been on Raising Heart were modelled off Fate and Arf’s favoured clothing, which… while fine on them, was a little bit _less_ than Nanoha herself was used to wearing. Those had gone back into storage very quickly after being tried on. And were being kept there.

“Y-yes, of course,” she mumbled. “Um… Raising Heart? Can you look for designs which are like my Barrier Jacket?”

The Device chimed, and the pictures on the screen reloaded, replacing the lighter outfits with more durable-looking attire. Vesta watched her master as she scrolled through the new selection, occasionally asking Raising Heart to convert the image of one of the hopefuls into a 3D hologram to get a better a look at it. The girl was smiling faintly, her face animated as she worked. She threw the occasional comment at Vesta, which she made the appropriate ‘mmm’ noises to, but seemed otherwise focused on finding her something to wear. She was so determined that it be perfect, wonderful.

Following a sudden urge, Vesta stood up abruptly, moving over to Nanoha.

“Vesta-chan? What is it?”

She didn’t answer, instead picking Nanoha bodily up out of the chair she sat in and taking it for herself. Plonking her master down on her lap, she undid the ribbons holding the girl’s hair in the twin-ponytail style she favoured, and began combing it with her fingers, keeping Nanoha from moving away with a hand on her shoulder.

“Vesta! What are you- ah! Oh. That… heh… actually, that feels kind of nice.” Relaxing slightly, Nanoha leant back into Vesta’s half-embrace, letting the cat-familiar play with her hair as she saw fit. A thought struck her, and she giggled quietly.

“You’re grooming me, aren’t you? Like a mother cat does to her kittens.” Her eyes fluttered half-closed as the gentle, repetitive motions soothed her, and a small smile played across her lips. “Silly. I’m not one of your kittens. You’re not even old enough to have kittens.”

“No,” replied Vesta, her voice lower than normal, half words and half purr. “You’re not my kitten. You’re my master, which is a billion times better and more important.” She fell silent for a second, working free a tangle in the girl’s hair, before continuing. “You can keep looking through clothes, if you want. But I’m your familiar, so it’s my job to take care of you and make you look good.”

Nanoha smiled fondly. “Alright. As long as you don’t do this in public. People would look at us all funny.” Behind her, she felt the familiar shrug, but the tender nuzzle to the back of her head seemed to indicate acquiescence. Flicking through a few more pages, her eyes alighted on one outfit in particular.

“Oh! This one is perfect! Okay, stand up and let me try it on you!”

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Vesta stood, spreading her arms out and waiting for Nanoha to call up the necessary templates and adjust them to her satisfaction. It only took a minute or so, and Nanoha stood eagerly and activated the outfit.

The feel of weight settling around her shoulders was by now familiar, though this particular ensemble seemed a little heavier than most. Eyebrows quirking, Vesta waved her hand, summoning an illusionary mirror to take in what she was wearing. And promptly almost choked.

There were ruffles. And poofy sleeves. And pink. And… was that a little cartoon cat pattern on her shoulder? No. Her acceptance of her mistress’s whims only went so far, and this? This could not be tolerated. She wasn’t a _dog_. Trying not to gag, Vesta glared at the brown-haired girl, stomping over to the catalogue.

“On second thoughts,” she suggested, “how about I choose my outfit? This is…” she tried to think of a way to phrase her objections without hurting Nanoha’s feelings, “… a little bit, um, bright.”

The girl pouted. “Well _I_ like it,” she defended, and was met with a quick grin.

“Then you can wear it,” retorted Vesta, tapping one of the selections on offer and flicking through colours before going back to browsing. Another two potentials met with her approval, and a fourth was subjected to considerable scrutiny before being added to the shortlist. Deeming her choices to be enough for now, she turned it to her mistress.

“One of those, then.” Her tone, while light, brooked no disagreement. She would follow her human loyally in important things, sure, but she was still fundamentally a cat. And when it came to clothes? No, she would be the one to pick her fur. Or… well, clothes were a _kind_ of fur, so it still worked. Sort of.

“Hmm…” Nanoha mused, flipping through the images. She smiled, cocking her head. “They’re a bit… monochrome, aren’t they? All greys and blacks.” She looked up, blue eyes sparkling as they fixed on Vesta’s own. “You should add some blue in, to go with your eyes. They’re pretty.” She cocked her head, thinking. “Then again, blue _is_ the best colour for eyes,” she added, with an amused twinkle in her own.

Despite herself, Vesta felt a blush colour her cheeks.

“Hmm… okay, _this_ one, then.” Nanoha brought the template up, and stepped back to watch as it spun itself into reality around Vesta’s form. As it settled, her eyes widened slightly, and her mouth hung open in surprise.

“Wow…” she whispered, and her face lit up. “Vesta! You look _good!_ ”

And she did. Calling up another mirror-illusion, Vesta spun, admiring herself. It looked even better in reality than it had on the screen. Her hair fell in coarse bangs down to her eyebrows, spiking out at the back in a short cut that kept it from going past her shoulders or getting in the way. The Jacket was an adult woman’s frock coat, falling to her knees in crisp pleats that swished and turned as she moved, with a body that hugged her curves closely to devastating effect. Three buttons adorned the front – which Nanoha noted with slight amusement appeared to be straining slightly to contain her familiar’s bust – and the whole thing was a dark charcoal colour, striped with thin lines of lighter grey. A black silk scarf caressed her neck, tucked under the neck of the coat. Vivid blue eyes glinted as her skirts swished, made all the more vibrant by the lack of any other colour to detract from them.

“You look… grown-up.” Nanoha’s expression as she took in the look was one of wonder and excitement, and Vesta preened under the attention, allowed her coat and the black skirt she wore under it to swirl fluidly as she turned and strutted down the length of the room, her tail raising a slight bump in the back. Turning to look at it with annoyance, she concentrated briefly, making a small but important alteration to the template.

A moment later, her tail freed, she slashed it happily as she span, grinning toothily, and bounced back down the room to envelop Nanoha in a hug.

“I know! Don’t I?” She spun around again, beaming at the swirl of the pleated hem and edging a foot out to examine her boots – black, unsurprisingly, with armoured steel toecaps that resembled those worn by Fate Similar metal gloves encased her hands, and she grinned toothily as she flexed them, bringing long tiger-like claws of deep red magic into being before dismissing them. But preoccupied as she was, her ears still perked as she heard Nanoha’s despondent sigh.

“I just wish mama could see you too.”

The triumphant excitement drained from the cat-familiar, and she sat down, enfolding Nanoha in another hug and pulling her onto her lap again.

“She will, someday,” she whispered, stroking Nanoha’s unbound hair again, running her fingers through the brown locks. “I promise. She will.”

…

“Hey, Kyouya!” Miyuki rapped on her brother’s door, waiting for the sound of movement inside before continuing. “I’m going down to the dojo to practice. Wanna do some sparring?”

There was a short pause, before the door swung open to reveal a rumpled looking Kyouya. He yawned shortly, glancing back inside at the schoolwork on his desk, and shrugged. “Sure,” he answered. “Anything to take a break from history revision.”

Grinning, she sketched a playful bow and turned, leading him downstairs and out of the house towards the dojo. It wasn’t rare for them to do this, to go down to the dojo and spar even outside Miyuki’s lessons. It was good practice, and fun besides. She hadn’t decisively beaten him yet, but she got fractionally closer to it every bout, and was already managing to land minor strikes on him.

What was unusual, however, was to find the training hall occupied.

“Uh… mum? Dad?” Miyuki blinked in confusion as Kyouya leaned over her shoulder to see what the matter was, checking again to make sure that her eyes were telling her the truth.

The tableau before her didn’t change. Her mother stood in the centre of the dojo, clad in a beginner’s gi and breathing heavily with her hands on her knees. Shiro stood near her, his arms folded and an eyebrow raised in an expression Miyuki recognised as mildly chastising. His gaze moved from his wife to his son and daughter as she watched, and the eyebrow lowered.

“Ah, Miyuki, Kyouya,” he greeted them, and paused. The confusion was fairly plain on both of their faces, and he absently scratched his cheek as he considered how to explain the situation.

He opted for blunt simplicity. “I’m training Momoko in the Fuwa style,” he stated frankly. Kyouya raised an eyebrow and moved around Miyuki, who was still frozen in the doorway, to enter the room properly.

“Yeah,” he deadpanned. “I can see that. Um… why?”

Momoko smiled taking a deep breath and pushing herself back upright. “Well, part of it is because he was worried about me,” she said fondly, nudging Shiro with her hip and receiving a glance that bordered on smouldering in return. “But we’ve also discovered something… interesting.”

“Uh oh,” Miyuki frowned, leaning on the doorframe. “The word ‘interesting’ does not fill me with confidence. The last ‘interesting’ thing I found out was that my little sister was a magical girl. Who is trying to save the world from weird jewel-things.” A thought seemed to strike her, and she fell silent, with a faintly worried air.

Shiro rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, well, this is a _little_ less world-shaking. We discovered… well, it might be best just to show you. Dear?”

Momoko nodded obligingly, closed her eyes in concentration, and ignited.

It was so sudden, so completely out of the blue, that both teenagers flinched backwards into combat stances, Miyuki with a gasp of shock and Kyouya with a startled yell. There was no other way to describe the effect, either. An aura of deep red-pink flickered and surged around Momoko, who stood with a placid smile as her husband flowed the short distance over to her. Kyouya’s eyebrows rose even further as he sheepishly relaxed somewhat. That wasn’t a normal walk, his father was moving in full combat mode. And from the tiny hints around his chest, it looked almost as if he were about to…

He was proven right a second later, as Shiro twisted with lightning speed and planted a full force punch to Momoko’s chest. The teen was well aware of how hard his father could hit – the force behind that blow should have been enough to shatter concrete and break bone. Kyouya himself couldn’t pull off something like that yet – Miyuki certainly couldn’t. It was a punch from a full Fuwa master, a lethal and blindingly fast move more than capable of killing a person. And Momoko hadn’t even tried to move with it, let along dodge or block.

And yet the only effect was to force her back a step and drive the air out of her lungs in an audible gasp. Shiro caught her as she staggered slightly, but she didn’t seem at all harmed, smiling up at him after a moment and gesturing that it was alright for him to let go.

“How…”

It was Miyuki, staring in complete confusion as the aura around Momoko died down. Shiro nodded, folding his arms again and tapping his fingers on his bicep.

“It… appears that Momoko has a certain amount of magical ability herself. We discovered it while I was teaching her the Fuwa style… and that’s the really interesting thing. I think, from what we’ve found, that so do we. Our fighting style seems to use magic in a very minor role – it’s what makes us so strong and so fast. It just seems that…” he frowned slightly, not liking the taste of the next words, “… that we’re all fairly weak mages – or that our style is inefficient, I suppose. Regardless, either way, Momoko is able to get far more of an effect from it by supercharging the effects. Where we make ourselves tougher and stronger, she… well, you saw.”

All eyes turned to Momoko, who offered an embarrassed smile. “Shiro was talking about how it was possible to train your endurance, and… it just sort of made sense, after seeing what that boy from the shop had. He said he had a 'covert Jacket' on, and I guessed that it was possible to make… invisible magical armour, I suppose. I'm not sure how he makes it invisible, but I thought visible might be easier first. The technique that Shiro explained was a big help.”

Miyuki considered this for a second, before letting out a slightly hysterical giggle. “So… what you’re saying is that not only is my little sister a magical girl, but so is my mum? And possibly so am I?”

The sides of Kyouya’s mouth twitched upwards slightly at the phrasing. “Well, I hope you’ll leave out the flashy transformations and speeches about love and justice,” he smirked. “And wear a proper length skirt. But… actually, this could be a good thing. If we can learn to use this better, more efficiently… maybe we’ll be more effective against these TSAB guys, next time.”

Shiro nodded, animation and enthusiasm starting to flow back into him as ideas began to fly between the four as to where and how they could develop their new discovery. And outside, on the sill of one of the thin, high windows that lay along the top of the dojo walls to let the light in, a dragonfly perched. Its body was a muted violet jewel, and its eyes only superficially resembled the compound structures found in real insects. All four wings were extended, the lower pair vibrating slightly, the top pair so perfectly still that a close observer would have been able to pick out the hair-thin tracery of metallic patterns threaded through them.

It was a simple thing, a low-level summon designed and created for a single, specific purpose. It followed. It watched. It listened.

And everything that it took in, it sent back to its creator.

…

“So. It’s not just the girl.”

Zest frowned at the image, hooded brows creased in annoyance. “That could make things difficult, if she decides to follow her daughter’s example,” he mused. “And I don’t like how fast she’s learning, either.”

“Like Nanoha.” Yuuno leaned forward, chewing on his lip thoughtfully as he stared at the Takamachi family through the feed. “I mean, she’s almost invented a crude Barrier Jacket there, though it looks horribly inefficient – yes, see?” He gestured at the window, where the dimming aura around Momoko had guttered out completely. “She can’t sustain it for very long, it looks like. Even so, that sort of progress… I wonder if it’s something cultural, or just a quirk of the family? Nanoha has an enormous amount of mathematical talent which she seems to have inherited from her mother. Perhaps this creativity is related to it?”

“Personally, I’m a little less concerned with where it comes from, and a lot more worried about how we’re going to deal with it,” said Chrono dismissively. He glanced around the room – the same meeting room that they had convened in after their disastrous first contact with this mission, though now it was slightly more crowded. Lindy sat at the head of the long table with her hands folded in front of her mouth, masking her expression. The backup team were congregated together, though Chrono noted that the attention of the youngest one seemed to be wandering somewhat. The specialist team, by contrast, were focused on the screen and the subject at hand. The three separate clusters of people showed rather clearly, Chrono noted with a hint of morbid interest, how divided they still were. Try as they might, this was not a single cohesive group.

He just had to hope that their divisions wouldn’t cause any more trouble than they already had.

“Alright,” said Lindy, entering the conversation for the first time since the feed had been switched on. “I hesitated to do this after the first time, but if the family has begun to experiment with magic, I think it might be time to try and contact them again.”

Chrono winced. “That… didn’t work so well the last time we tried it,” he observed. Lindy nodded.

“I know. That’s why we’re not sending you, or going to the mother. No, I think what might be needed here is a professional apology to Mr Takamachi for how we have mishandled the situation, and an assurance that an elite team is now on the case. Scyra-san, you mentioned that he was a bodyguard some time ago?” Yuuno nodded in confirmation, and Lindy glanced back assessingly at the screen that still showed the man interacting with his family. “Right. Then he’ll probably appreciate professionalism.” She turned to Zest and his squad. “Now, Investigator Alpine has already made contact with his wife, and we don’t want him to be paranoid. And forgive me for saying so, but you are… hmm…”

Zest cracked a slight smirk. “Not the most reassuring of faces, no,” he finished. “I’m better at intimidation. I doubt he’d be happy about his daughter facing me down. Which leaves Quint.”

All eyes turned to the purple-haired woman, who looked round from where she had been considering the video with a cocked head and an absent-minded half-smile. “Hmm? Yes, yes, I’ll go,” she confirmed. “Let’s see… he’s probably been in some kind of contact with his daughter, so I’ll stick to straight facts without any pushes on how to interpret them. And warn him about experimenting with magic, of course. He should be able to put the pieces together on his own.” She glanced at Zest. “Sound good?”

He folded his arms, pushing his chair back slightly and looking upwards at the metal-panelled ceiling. “I’d advise being ready to correct any misrepresentation he’s been fed through his daughter. There’s liable to be some, I would imagine. Speaking of which, what do we know about who’s behind this? Are we sure it’s Testarossa?”

Megane cracked her knuckles, wincing as she sat forward and idly rubbing the bump of her pregnancy. “Right, yes,” she began. “On that subject, I’ve dug up some of the old records and found something interesting. Testarossa does in fact have a registered daughter.” She waited for the raised eyebrows, before prompting another holographic window to open and delivering the follow-up.

“Who died almost thirty years ago.” She gestured at the young girl shown on the screen. “She received a lethal dose of mana irradiation from the reactor explosion. It was only a short time later that Testarossa dropped off the map. Her last known sighting was about ten years ago, and by all accounts she was working alone then, so it looks as though this new girl, Fate – who looks to be about nine, so the timeline works out – is all we’re dealing with.” She pursed her lips. “It also seems as though Precia Testarossa never underwent the full course of detoxification from the mana irradiation _she_ received.”

The reactions to that were rather more dramatic, with the strongest of them coming from Rizu. Gasping, the usually-soft-spoken healer stood, sending her chair clattering back onto the floor.

“Thirty _years_ after inadequate detox?” she exclaimed, horrified. “Let- um… c-can I see the…” Megane regarded her with cool eyes, before nodding slowly and manoeuvring the display over to her, an elegant eyebrow rising in a silent question. Rizu didn’t answer immediately, studying the information on-screen for several moments as her shoulders dropped lower and lower. Eventually, she appeared to come to a conclusion and sank back down again, barely noticing Mei hastily pick her chair up so that she didn’t wind up on the floor. Her face was pale, and she swallowed hard before speaking.

“… she should be dead,” she eventually declared. “She’s been getting Phase 3 t-treatment somewhere, somehow, because if she hadn’t… n-nobody survives that long, even with the Phase 1 and incomplete Phase 2 listed on these r-records. And… with that incomplete Phase 2… e-even if she managed to p-partially detoxify herself… three decades of time for the damage to build up will have t-taken their toll. Most…” she closed her eyes and swallowed again, before continuing in a lower voice. “M-most of her internal organs will probably be shutting down, slowly. She may not even be capable of magic anymore. It all depends on how g-good the treatment she’s got for herself was, but unless it was the b-best, the sort of thing from the best hospitals in Dimensional Space, she’ll… she p-probably barely has enough of a working Linker Core left to fire a t-training shot.”

Megane’s eyes widened slightly at that, and Lindy let out a soft breath into the silence. “I knew mana poisoning was dangerous, but not that the details,” she admitted. “So if she should be dead, the question stands: why isn’t she?” She glanced at the Investigators, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Quint shrugged. “Zest and I are straight combat mages,” she explained. “And Megane is a summoner and support mage, not a focused healer. I think what she does know is mostly trauma, anyway. Not like this.”

“I know enough to avoid induced Core haemorrhage and toxic build-up,” murmured Megane, “but the long-term effects aren’t really something I’ve ever needed to know.” She glanced up at Rizu. “You’re in training to be a full healer?” she asked. “What’s your opinion? And long would you say she has to live?”

Rizu shook her head helplessly, her eyes flicking across the screen. “I… I d-don’t know,” she apologised. “There’s… I don’t even know if I could tell from an examination. It’s possible she’s been getting t-treatment elsewhere, but it would only be staving off the inevitable. And a life-expectancy… I don’t know, th-there are just too many factors.”

“A rough guess,” pressed Megane, “just to give us an idea of what timeframe we’re working with.”

“…” Rizu hesitated, her lower lip trembling as she considered. “L-let me just…” her hands shaking from all of the attention directed at her, she made a few nervous gestures, “… pull up the tables.” With a series of commands to her Device, she brought up a hologram and studied it intently for a moment. “With that l-level, um… she could be anywhere from already dead, to a decade left.” she decided, tentatively. “I… I’m sorry, I j-just can’t say without knowing what kind of treatment she’s got.”

Mei smiled encouragingly at her, flashing a surreptitious thumbs up, and Rizu smiled back tentatively and stood a little straighter.

“Uh… she must have been getting treatment from somewhere,” she said, her voice a little firmer, “if she’s still alive, that is, but…” her forehead creased in thought, her lips moving slightly “… it’s already a foregone conclusion, really. The very best treatment would give you forty or more years from initial exposure, but she didn’t undergo Phase 2 treatment properly, so that… that brings her down to this” she pointed at a box on the screen, “c-category, and, um. That’s at best. If we assume that she’s still well enough t-to do anything with the Jewel Seeds, then… yeah, okay. Okay, we can p-probably say she has at least two months left to live, in that c-case.”

“Two months,” said Zest, lips turning down at the news.

Rizu swallowed nervously again, and cleared her throat. “Yes. She might not have that long, but if not, she _probably_ wouldn’t be able to actually use the Jewel Seeds.Um. Or any magic at all, really. In the long run, the only question is how much longer she holds out. I’d g-guess that the only reason she’s still alive at all – given we know she g-got full Phase 1 and partial Phase 2 – is because of her power. Her body would be used to handling large amounts of mana, it would have… um… lessened the damage she suffered from the immediate blast, so that with the Phase 1 treatment, it’ll be the long t-term organ problems from Phase 2 scarring which kill her, I think. That, and if she’s getting Phase 3 t-treatment… even that will only have delayed it a little, though. She’ll still be facing catastrophic organ failure.” She raised one hand apologetically. “But, um. P-please remember, I’m only qualified as a rank 1 at the moment. This training was meant to be p-part of my qualifications for rank 2, and I’ve read ahead, b-but… well, you’d really want a specialist for more accurate things. And there’s not much information to go on in the first place.”

“That would explain why we haven’t seen her in person,” Tiida mused, as Rizu sagged down into her seat and tried to control her nervous shaking from having to talk as an expert to an experienced team. “But a few months is still long enough for her to wreck serious havoc with the Jewel Seeds.” A thought struck him suddenly, and he straightened. “Wait, could this be why she wants them? To heal herself?”

Yuuno shook his head immediately. “No. They’re primarily power storage artefacts. Worse than useless, since adding more magic would just make it worse. Besides, from what Cadet Jhanashdi said, she’s beyond any cure now.” He frowned. “Though I’m still not sure why she hasn’t done whatever she’s planning. A dozen of them should be enough for almost anything, and there aren’t many more left.”

“Seven or eight, I believe,” Lindy said. “Which brings us onto the next point. What do we have on their locations?”

A general aura of defeat settled over the table.

“Very little, I’m afraid,” reported Tiida. “We have the ground-based sensor network set up, but nothing has triggered any of them, and active scanning runs the risk of setting some or all of the Seeds off, however slight.”

Heidi cleared her throat, and he glanced across at her.

“In addition to that, sir,” she said, “I’ve been looking at the results of that active scan we took of the anomaly a couple of days ago. The results are horribly skewed due to the point reaction, obviously, but… from the reflections of the pulse, I’m reasonably sure that at least four or five of the remaining Seeds are in the ocean, underwater. And I checked that with some of the technical staff here on the Asura, and they think it’s a probable interpretation of the data.”

Silence fell again, this time broken by Chrono.

“Damn,” he sighed. “Those are going to be a pain to retrieve. Like looking for a needle in a haystack, even if we can narrow them down to a small area. Do we know what the reaction was, anyway?”

“I’ve been looking into that, too,” said Megane, “and none of the options look promising, I’m afraid. The nature of the anomaly, with a hyper-concentrated point-singularity, suggests one of a very small number of spells. Amongst them… we must consider the possibility that they have attempted, and possibly succeeded, in tapping a Jewel Seed.”

She met the grim expressions with her own. “And the other possibilities aren’t much better. The Familiar creation spell is one – which I would normally discount as taking too long to learn, but Miss Takamachi seems full of surprises on that score. Another is that they have laid their hands on a compression-type Lost Logia, which you may recall are often used in bombs of enormous power, and the like. And the last… is possibly the most worrying. The reactor that Precia Testarossa was working on was supposed to draw energy from the fluctuations in the Dimensional Sea. If she has perfected that technology, it is possible that the influx of mana through the tap would look very similar to what we saw in the anomaly.”

Lindy closed her eyes in a pained grimace. “A safe, renewable and potentially infinite power source. That would be a huge blow against us.” She sighed. “Well, we will simply have to hope that _that_ possibility does not turn out to be the one we face. Though I can’t say any of them are particularly encouraging.” She folded her hands together again, resting them in front of her face.

“Well, there’s little we can do about that right now.” she decided. “Investigator Alpine, thank you for the information you have uncovered. Please keep monitoring the situation on the ground with your summons. Lieutenant Lanster, have your team ready for immediate deployment upon the activation of the next Jewel Seed, and be prepared for any unpleasant surprises – it is now more important than ever that we seal and recover all of the remaining ones.” She looked around, fixing them all with a steady gaze, and finally turned to Quint.

“And Investigator Nakajima, please meet with Takamachi-san as soon as possible. If he can convince his daughter to at least talk to us, we may yet avert a crisis before it occurs.”

With that, the meeting broke up, each group heading their separate ways. Megane and Yuuno returned to their respective research, Lindy and Chrono to the bridge. The backup team split up to monitor the ground sensors, Mei helping her still-shaking half-sister along; and Zest set off to run patrols on the surface.

And Quint Nakajima headed straight for the teleport bays. Earthbound, on a mission.

…

Shiro was in the kitchen fetching himself a glass of water when the knock came. The sixth sense that he had developed during his years as a bodyguard prickled, and he gently put the half-full glass down on the counter, sliding towards the door with feline grace.

Opening it, the figure he was confronted with was nothing like what he was expecting. She was a little shorter than he was, and heavily built, not to mention in as good a level of fitness as he had been in his prime. She was obviously able to handle herself in a fight, from the way she held herself, but her stance was definitely neutral and non-threatening, and he couldn’t see any weapons on her.

Of course, if she was what he thought she was, that didn’t really count for much.

“Shiro Takamachi?” she asked, and he nodded warily, taking a slow step back out of her range and readying himself to dodge if she moved to attack. Instead, she stuck out her hand. “I am Warrant Officer Quint Nakajima of the TSAB Ground Forces. I’m part of the professional team that has been dispatched to bring this case to a conclusion. May I come in?”

Warily, he took her hand, noting the strength of her grip as she shook it, and stepped back in a silent invitation. She took it, stepping in with a toss of the long ponytail her purple hair was bound up in.

“I won’t keep you long,” she said, and… yes, he could see the slight discrepancy between her lips and her words that Momoko had mentioned. “I would like to apologise for the unprofessional way this situation has been handled so far, and to reassure you that we are doing everything we can to end this matter without any harm to your daughter. I am aware that she has more than likely told you Precia Testarossa’s side of the story…” and Shiro wasn’t blind to the way her steady gaze raked across his face, watching for a reaction to that. He kept his expression neutral, refusing to give her anything, and after a tiny pause she continued, “... so I will lay out the facts in short. Testarossa-san is an SS-rank dimensional criminal with a long and storied history, including at least one reactor meltdown that records indicate was primarily due to her lack of safety precautions, and which caused several thousand deaths. She is also terminally ill, and her ability to control the Lost Logia she is attempting to gather will be seriously and negatively affected by her condition.”

Her green eyes bored into him. “As well as that, she may think she knows what she is doing, but I rather doubt she does. Lost Logia are given that designation because nobody is sure how or why they function. And messing around with magic that you don’t understand is, without exception, extremely dangerous. We have reason to believe she is planning something that could very well tear apart multiple dimensions, and I’m afraid to say that with the number of Lost Logia she already has, she may well do just that if she tries.”

Shiro held up a hand, stopping the brisk summary, and leaned back against the wall, his expression deceptively casual. “That’s all very well and good,” he retorted, “but from what my daughter has told us, she seems to be under the impression that the TSAB are in the wrong here. Something about her trying to save a family member, and your Bureau stopping her. She also claims to have a certain level of justified confidence in the woman’s ability to handle these Jewel Seeds.”

Quint tilted her head, frowning. “I’m only aware of her two daughters – the one involved in this case, who appears to be perfectly healthy given the level of damage she’s able to dish out, and a daughter some thirty years ago who was killed in the reactor incident. And I’m afraid that bringing back the dead is impossible, even for magic.”

Something flickered in the man’s eyes, as if he was holding back on something else, but Quint knew better than to push. Just the knowledge that there _was_ something was enough, in its own way. On the other hand, he didn’t look at all convinced yet, and she decided to move onto the main reason for her visit.

“Look,” she said frankly, spreading her hands, “I’m aware that you don’t trust me. Or the TSAB in general, and I can see why. This is about as bad a first contact scenario as I’ve seen in a long time, if you’re willing to take that on faith. There have been misunderstandings and mistakes on every side, especially ours. So I won’t insult you by asking you to help us. But if you can get a message to your daughter asking her to _talk_ to us, just to sit down and discuss whatever they’re trying to do, we would love to try and resolve this peacefully. If we can find a solution that satisfies every party, I promise that we will take it, and we would like nothing more than to do so when a battle over the Jewel Seeds might leave scars on this region of Dimensional Space for centuries to come.”

Shiro had to admit, that at least was a convincing argument. Reluctantly, he nodded. “Alright,” he agreed. “If I get in contact with her again, I’ll pass that message on. But that’s all I’ll do, if you don’t mind.”

Quint didn’t seem insulted, merely nodding gratefully with a slight smile. “Thank you. And I give you my word that we will be as gentle as possible in keeping her from gathering any more of the Lost Logia and apprehending her, which shouldn’t be difficult. Now that we’re not operating with a skeleton crew, we should be able to mop up the rest of them in fairly short order. If we do capture her and the younger Testarossa, we will of course inform you immediately and keep you up to date on the situation. And as she’s both a native and a minor, I can assure you that she won’t be separated from you, and the worst she’s likely to be looking at is a powerful limiter on her magic to stop anything like this happening again. More likely, she’ll get a temporary lower-level one and a mentor to bring her up to speed on Dimensional Space, magic and so on.”

Some of the careful poise and slightly-too-casual relaxation in Shiro’s body faded, replaced by genuine relief. “That’s… good to hear,” he admitted. “I was a little worried.” He sized her up again, a faint glimmer of respect – from one professional to another – in his expression. “Alright, I’ll pass on your request, and keep your warnings in mind.” He gave her a flat look that clearly stated that he was aware of the reason for the one against dabbling in magic without knowledge of what one was doing, and dryly added, “All of them. If that was all?”

“It was. Thank you for your time, and I hope that the next time we meet is in happier circumstances.” She offered her hand again, and he shook it, keeping a wary eye on her until she was out of the door and gone.

“Dad?”

He turned. “Miyuki. Something wrong?”

She looked curiously in the direction the woman had departed, but appeared to decide against asking. “Um. Yeah. I…” Biting her lip, she beckoned him closer, speaking in lowered tones.

“You reminded me of something earlier. You know that icy crystal ball thing I found in the woods, at the hot springs? Do you think that could have had something to do with these Jewel Seed things that Nanoha’s trying to find?”

Shiro went pale. A moment’s silence passed as he considered the theory, before swallowing. “You… were keeping it in your room, yes?” he murmured. She nodded, and he took a deep, calming breath. “I think… relocating it to the bottom of the garden would probably be a good idea. In a bag, so it doesn’t attract any attention. And then I’ll call Nanoha to have a look at it tomorrow.” He paused, considering. “Tonight. I’ll call her tonight.”

Miyuki nodded shakily, knees feeling rather weaker than they had been a moment ago. “Y-yeah,” she breathed, still shivering a little. “Yeah, okay. I’ll… go do that now.”

She stumbled off upstairs, and Shiro watched her go concernedly. For a moment he stood there, carefully considering everything he had just learned.

Then he took a deep breath, and went to find his wife.

…

The sun was dipping low after another unsuccessful day of searching the city, as Arisa trudged on weary feet back through the crowded streets. A flash of purple hair caught the corner of her eye, and she turned to see Suzuka approaching her. The girl’s tired expression was an answer in and of itself, but she asked anyway.

“Any luck?” Frowning at the faint croak in her voice, she rooted around in her bag for a bottle of water and took a greedy gulp from it, the cool liquid flowing soothingly down her parched throat. Noting the envious look on Suzuka’s face, she offered it to her friend, who took several long drags before answering.

“Nothing,” she said sadly. “Are you sure that searching like this is going to find her? I mean, it’s a big city, and…”

“We’ll find her, I promise,” insisted Arisa stubbornly. “We just have to keep looking.” She looked around, craning to peer suspiciously into the long, narrow interior of a convenience store, as if Nanoha might be hiding next to the racks of newspapers at the far end.

Even so, Suzuka couldn’t help but sigh despondently. They had been searching for what seemed like a small eternity now, roaming the crowded areas of the city and hoping to catch a glimpse of their friend. In hindsight, it was starting seem like not a very good plan. There were posters up of Nanoha, she’d been on the news – surely if she was around, wouldn’t someone have recognised her by now?

Dejected, she looked up at the towering buildings of silvered glass that surrounded them. Office blocks, apartment blocks, business headquarters… this was the high-rise part of town, though they were on the outskirts of it, and the roofs were beginning to drop down to a mere three or four storeys here and there as the two of them wandered back in the vague direction of the bus station. She had been hopeful, given the number of hotels in this area, that they might strike lucky and see Nanoha or the Fate girl here. Or maybe even the orange-haired woman, she didn’t really mind. This was a logical place for them to be staying.

Nonetheless, it had born as little fruit as any of the other places they had searched. She sighed again, dragging her feet – which were hurting from all the walking she had been doing today – and bumping shoulders idly with Arisa.

“Where shall we search next, then?” she asked, her voice rather lacking in enthusiasm. Arisa pursed her lips, bringing a hand up to tap on her chin as she thought it over. They split apart briefly, flowing around a harassed-looking salaryman, and rejoined each other behind him.

“I guess we could try the parks?” the blonde mused. “She might relax there. Or… hmm… maybe ask around at some of the hotels? Or…”

“Arisa-chan…”

Suzuka stopped abruptly, blinking. “I… do you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

Purple hair swished as Suzuka looked around, trying to trace the source of the strange feeling. “I don’t know. The air feels… greasy. Like that… whatever it was, just before Nanoha disappeared.”

A blonde eyebrow rose. “Maybe it’s the burger you had? I told you it looked funny.” Suzuka shot her a look, and Arisa shrugged. “Hey, don’t blame me if you feel sick, it was your choice to…” She trailed off, frowning, and took a careful breath, running her tongue across the roof of her mouth.

“… actually, on second thoughts, I think I can feel it too. What _is_ that?”

A headache bloomed between Suzuka’s temples, and she winced, one hand coming up to nurse it. As she did so, she was struck by the memory of those horrible few minutes the day before Nanoha’s disappearance, and the symptoms she had felt then. Her eyes widened. She was entirely aware of the fact that she didn’t really know what was going on with the magic and artefacts and animal-people, but she was far from stupid, and she was more than capable of recognising basic patterns. From what Nanoha had said, the thing that had affected people all over the world had been some kind of magical disaster. What she was feeling now wasn’t nearly as strong, and seemed a lot more local, but it was undoubtedly related, and thus probably due to a lot of magic somewhere nearby.

She could only think of two or three reasons for lots of magic to be building up in the middle of the city. None of them were good. The hand that wasn’t cradling her forehead lashed out to catch Arisa’s wrist in a grip of iron, and she turned to her friend with a terrified expression. One look was enough, and she saw worried confusion spread across the blonde’s face in turn. But there was no time to explain things. They had to get out of there. Now.

“Run,” she said, simply.

They ran.

The wave hit them before they got halfway down the street. Suzuka _felt_ it coming, an alien pulse rippling up behind them at incredible speed. Glancing round without slowing down, her grip on Arisa’s wrist holding firm, she squeaked with fright at the wall of grey advancing towards them. Even moving as fast as she could, though, dodging around pedestrians and scattering people left, right and centre as they fled, it caught up to them with almost insulting ease.

There was a brief, wrenching jerk as it washed over them. And then the world was different.

The colour was gone. The sky was a dark purple-grey, rippling with strange patterns. The people had vanished, and the buildings had a curiously leeched tone to them, as if they were just echoes of the real things, painted-on scenery for a cheap play. She couldn’t smell the scents of city life, either, and her ears were filled with nothing but her and Arisa’s own ragged breathing. Beyond them, there was nothing but an eerie silence. The sounds of the city were as absent as if they had never been.

And as they turned around, looking in confusion and alarm at their suddenly familiar-but-unfamiliar surroundings, a rustling sound drifted over from a bookstore across the street. And, drifting slowly through the door, the creature at the centre of the nightmare revealed itself.

…

It started slowly. Subtly. Almost enough to fool Suzuka into thinking it was nothing at all.

Well, perhaps not quite. The deep violet glow rather gave it away. As she watched, petrified, indigo-tinged sheets of paper slid out through the cracks between the door and the doorframe. Curling upwards, they drew together, layering on top of one another as if they were a papier-mâché sculpture. Paper curled, warped, flowed upwards as the shape built itself from the bottom upwards.

Suzuka heard a strangled gasp from beside her as the paper finished building itself into a sphere. Somehow, despite being made of hundreds of sheets of paper layered on top of one another, she could see no seams, no breaks or edges on the thing. It looked for all the world like a perfectly smooth sphere. For a moment it hung there, glowing softly with the deep purple light. And then, somehow, despite the total lack of any identifying features on the thing, Suzuka felt its attention turn towards her.

There was a heartbeat of silent, perfect stillness. Then the sphere exploded.

Hundreds of sheets of paper whirled around one another in a frenzied storm of activity, a hurricane of pages whipping in and out and around themselves in a mad pattern. Then, as quickly as they had disassembled, the sheets of paper rushed inwards again, reconstructing themselves into a different form.

Her form.

The copy cocked its head at her, a perfect silhouette made from paper, right down to the hem of her dress. Somehow, it had even managed to copy the way her hair fell down around her shoulders, though it didn’t seem to have managed to copy individual strands. For some reason, that made her feel better. A ripple crossed over its surface, a wave of pages turning over, and then Arisa’s form was the one that stared at them, blank paper eyes looking at them with a neutral, inhuman expression.

It took one step towards them. And then the lightning hit it.

Binds of golden light snapped into place around both wrists and ankles, immobilising it. Another two wrapped themselves around the thing’s neck and torso, squeezing it with crushing force. In a rush of air and a flash of crackling electricity, the blonde girl called Fate was standing between them and the paper-thing, clad in the same strange clothing as she had been when Suzuka had seen her at the edge of her home and holding a long black scythe whose blade was a blazing golden lightning bolt.

Less than a second later, half a dozen pink spheres slammed into the thing with sledgehammer force, detonating as they impacted, shrouding the figure in smoke as Nanoha landed, flanked by a huge orange wolf and what looked to be a giant grey-black tigress with bright blue eyes. Suzuka blinked in astonishment. Was that…

“… Vesta?” she whispered incredulously. The animal seemed to hear her, ears pricking slightly as it glancing across to her. The cheerful lash of its tail confirmed that it was the little kitten she had last seen more than two weeks ago, though grown to almost unrecognisable proportions.

Arisa’s tugging on her hand reminded her that perhaps standing in the middle of a potential battlefield was a less than wise course of action, and she followed her friend further down the road, taking refuge behind a corner and peeking out at the showdown timidly.

“Did you see that?” whispered Arisa fiercely. “How fast they got here? Seconds, at most! They must have been close by! And I bet they were at home, if both of them were in the same place! Which means that they _are_ living somewhere around here!”

Suzuka glanced back at her enthused friend incredulously. “You’re thinking about that?” she hissed back in disbelief. “At a time like this?”

She had no time to reply to that, though, as the smoke cleared and the figure was revealed. Still held crucified by the binds, it was looking decidedly the worse for wear, with singed and smoking pages hanging off it and patches that had been entirely burnt through. It sagged in the iron grip of the bindings, hanging limply.

Nanoha and Fate, along with their familiars, apparently trusted that appearance about as much as they could throw it. Considerably less, in fact. Keeping their Devices trained on it, Fate snapped Bardiche out into its glaive-like Sealing Mode as Nanoha readied another barrage of Divine Shooters, staying tense and alert for any surprise attacks.

The one that came was not one which could be called predictable in any fashion, however. Squeezed by the bands of electric gold around its neck and torso, the head of the paper figure _bulged_ obscenely, as if blown up like a balloon. Larger and larger it swelled, the features warping and blurring until it was just a huge bulge topping a limp and lifeless body.

The eruption came as a surprise to nobody. Nanoha was already moving as the huge, sinuous form blurred towards her, diving to one side. Even with the aid of a Flash Move, she barely got out of the way in time as three titanic jaws slammed into the street where she had been standing, gouging out a huge crater from the tarmac.

Taking to the air and hovering on the other side of the thing from Arisa and Suzuka, so as to draw it away from them, Nanoha dropped down next to Fate’s new position. She took in what they were facing. Even with her experience facing the previous Jewel Seeds, it was daunting. This thing was a monster.

It was almost a hundred metres long, easily six or seven times the length of her school bus. A serpentine, draconic form – and where on earth all of that paper had come from she had no idea – coiled outward from the humanoid figure that was even now reforming itself into a tail. Three jaws were set into the blunt hammer of its face, two beside one another and a third beneath them, each filled with grinding fangs. Six eyes glimmered above them, set in two triangles that gave it binocular vision through the inner two and almost 360 degrees of peripheral vision from the outer four. The sheets that made up its flanks rippled and flexed like scales, waves of turning pages drifting leisurely over the enormous form as the amethyst glow saturated them from within.

“I never thought I’d say this, Nanoha,” murmured Fate quietly, “but I think you should have used more firepower when you shot it the first time.”

The dragon regarded them with an expression not dissimilar to that of a python looking at a couple of ants in its way. Then it opened all three sets of jaws, revealing three barbed tongues that forked into two lethally sharp points each, and roared at them with enough force to shatter every pane of glass on the street.

Nanoha and Fate burst into motion, breaking left and right in a perfectly coordinated blur as Arf backed away and Vesta simply rippled and vanished. Binds of pink and chains of orange snapped into place around the creature as Fate darted towards it, scythe raised threateningly. Nanoha hung back, the tell-tale rings of a Divine Buster beginning to form around Raising Heart’s head as Fate unleashed a flurry of slashes that failed to have any appreciable effect on the dragon’s flank. It twisted, snapping at her, and the binds strained and snapped with the force of its movement.

The huge head paused, turning back and peering at the binds that were already stressed to their limit in trying to contain it. With a growl of irritation and a writhing jerk, the binds were shattered and it was free. A flick of its tail turned the thing away from the two young mages – and nothing that _big_ , though Nanoha, should be able to move with such fluid and effortless agility – and with another roar, it leapt into the air and sped away.

Towards the edge of the barrier.

“Fate!” Nanoha shouted, dropping the charging Buster and switching to telepathy as they shot after it, the howl of the slipstream eating up her words like moths in a gale. _‘I think it’s going to try and break out of the barrier! It can’t duck it like the last one, but if it can break through the edges…’_

As if to lend credence to her words, a coil of the sinuous, undulating form smashed into a tower block, sending it the top three floors of the building crashing to the ground. The dragon wasn’t even slowed by the impact, bales of paper pulling back into the hole in its side and reconstituting it from the damage.

 _‘We have to stop it! Try to get ahead of it, stop it from getting through the barrier! Arf, see if you can slow it down! I’ll hit it with a Divine Buster from behind!’_ She pulled to a halt, levelling Raising Heart at the thing, and again the characteristic rings formed around it. Fate didn’t bother replying, instead speeding up even more and shooting ahead in a blurred flash of gold.

Arf was fast, but she couldn’t match her mistress for raw speed. She hadn’t ever seen anyone that could, for that matter. Still, she was fast enough to gain ground on the dragon-thing as it lashed through the air. It was flying in a series of spiralling curves, coiling and winding its long, serpentine body in midair as it moved. Good, she thought. It meant slower movement, doing that. Had it been going in a straight line, it would probably already be at the edge of the barrier by now. Even so, it was getting alarmingly close, and she honestly had no idea what would happen when it got there.

Time to fix that, then.

There was no warning to herald the first orange plane slamming down in front of the beast. It smashed into it without slowing, three jaws grinding into the barrier, and Arf grunted in exertion at the backlash. But even though it wouldn’t hold for more than a second or so, the barrier was just the distraction she needed. Orange chains shot out, snarling the long coils of the dragon and pinning them to one another in huge loops. One set hooked through both of its upper jaws, pulling the roofs of its mouths open and preventing it from biting down. A thick set lashed its tail to the middle of its body, snarling it up in a tangle of twisting paper and violet glow. She didn’t stop, either, adding chain after chain after chain, anchoring them to the ground, the buildings, herself. Gold bands started to appear around it as well – Fate, having taken up a guarding position between the dragon and the edge of the dimensional barrier. They singed the paper where they touched, the electricity charring the sheets just from its mere proximity, squeezing down on the violet radiance. Behind them, she could see the building glow of Nanoha’s Divine Buster.

Then the dragon stopped thrashing. And for the second time in as many minutes, it exploded.

_‘No!’_

Paper flew everywhere. In long, flowing streams, it arched out away from where the dragon had been as the chains and bindings that had held it collapsed uselessly from the loss of resistance within them. A barrage of razor-edged sheets flew from the cloud towards Arf, and she threw herself out of their path hastily. A creak from behind her signalled them slicing almost casually through the girders holding up a billboard, and she swung yet further out of the way as the huge panel crashed down to the street like a giant flyswatter.

And then, hovering in a cloud of breeze-blown sheets and tentacle-like streamers and surges of paper, the hundreds of thousands of pages quivered for a second as the glow at their centre pulsed. And flew back together, reassembling into a very familiar form.

Insofar as the serpentine, triple-jawed face could be said to have an expression, it seemed to be one of smug triumph.

It was tempered slightly by half a dozen electric bolts smashing into it. _‘Bindings won’t work on it!’_ called Fate urgently. _‘Nanoha! Hit it with everything you have!’_ Another barrage crashed in, making the dragon flinch, and Arf followed suit, pelting it with Photon Lancers and conjuring an orange wedge of force to send smashing into the thing’s side. But while the bombardment certainly seemed to hurt it, it was nonetheless clear that it was recovering from the damage almost as fast as they were inflicting it.

 _‘Nanoha! Hurry it up!_ Arf yelled, as the monster unwound and pointed its gnashing jaws back in the direction of the barrier edge – and of Fate.

But the answer came, not in the form of a pink juggernaut of destruction blasting the dragon from afar, but as a telepathic scream and a distant explosion.

_‘They’re here!’_

…

Things were not going well.

Nanoha burst out of the hastily improvised explosion, checking quickly to make sure that Suzuka and Arisa hadn’t been caught by the blast. When the dark blue shots had lanced towards her, immobile and unable to dodge, detonating the energies she had been gathering to fire had been her instinctive reaction. She sighed in relief as her HUD found the girls intact, if scared, and spared a brief second to wonder why on earth they were here, inside a dimensional barrier and next to an activated Jewel Seed.

Then the swordswoman was in her face again, at the apex of a high jump, her energy blade crackling as it swung towards Nanoha. Vesta flickered into existence in human form before it was halfway there, dropping the illusion hiding her as she met the attack with deep red blades that extended out from her hands like claws.

“No you don’t!” she snarled, forcing the girl backwards as Nanoha snapped off a couple of Divine Shooters that curved round her. One broke on the girl’s shield, but the other took her full in the chest, sending her plummeting back towards the ground. A flurry of purple needles came from her left, and she snapped up a barrier against them. Chrono, she noted, was heading in the direction of the Jewel Seed and Fate. He had also, from what she could see, lost the spikes on his shoulders. Well, that was fine. She would deal with the rest of them.

“Ooooo!”

The exclamation of fascinated curiosity was Vesta’s. The cat-familiar was staring in the direction Chrono had gone, blue eyes riveted on… a green-and-tan figure following him.

Oh dear.

“Vesta, don’t-” Nanoha started to say, but it was too late. Phasing into her war-form, all three hundred kilograms of it, Vesta bounded after Yuuno with a happy roar. From what Nanoha could see of her face as he looked back to find the source, the only way to describe his reaction would be ‘terror’. For a moment, she started to telepathically call her familiar back to her.

On the other hand… she wasn’t likely to see much close combat up here, so she didn’t really need a hidden bodyguard. And Vesta’s attention would keep Yuuno occupied and leave the Enforcer boy facing Fate and Arf together, without any support. And she _was_ still feeling a little bit angry at him for everything he hadn’t told her, even if he had done it for what he thought were good reasons.

 _‘Vesta!’_ she called.

_‘Uh huh? Hee! He smells familiar, too!’_

Nanoha rolled her eyes fondly. _‘Don’t hurt him, okay? Just scare him a bit and keep him occupied.’_

 _‘Aye aye, boss!’_ came the cheerful reply. _‘Come here, mousey-thing! Play with me!’_

Smiling at the joyful tones of the happy feline, Nanoha turned her attention to her own opponents. There were four of them, it seemed. One was the sword-user who had tried to attack her in close combat. She hadn’t been flying, which meant that Nanoha could probably avoid her just by staying high. Anyway, she seemed to have landed badly, and another girl was tending to her – a healer, it looked like. They would probably be there for a while.

That left the girl who Fate had mentioned blasting, the one that used the purple needle-shots, and the orange-haired man hovering a little way away with twin pistols trained on her. Despite the stakes, Nanoha felt a smile forming. Take these two out, and then go help Fate. It would be interesting to see how fast she could manage it.

 _‘Fate-chan!’_ she called, _‘The Enforcer boy is headed your way! Nobody else, though! Vesta-chan is dealing with Yuuno-kun, and I’ll take care of the squad members then come and help!’_

Fate’s pulse of acknowledgement chimed in her mind. And then, warning given, she sprang into action.

…

Chrono Harloawn hurtled through the air, barrelling towards the Jewel Seed’s signal in an attempt to get there before it was sealed. As he drew closer, it became apparent that he needn’t have been worried. The thing was putting up quite a fight, and pressing the blonde girl and her familiar hard. Despite them peppering it with shots and binds, it looked like it was all they could do to keep it from getting to the edge of the dimensional barrier.

In that goal at least, he fully agreed with them. Pulling to a stop to get his bearings, he called up a line to the Asura.

“Amy,” he asked without preamble, “how long till the elite team get here?”

“Ah… Investigator Grangaitz is a couple of minutes out, and Investigator Nakajima will be there thirty seconds or so after that. Can you hold out that long?”

Narrowed eyes assessed his foes. “Yes,” he decided. More confidently than he actually _was_ , but it wasn’t like failure was really an option in this situation. “It looked like Takamachi had a familiar, try and gather data on what its capabilities are. Will the backup team hold out?”

A pause. “They’re at half strength due to injury, but they say they’ll do their best. The familiar is currently pursuing Scrya-san, who is urgently requesting assistance.”

A very faint smirk curled the corners of Chrono’s mouth briefly, and he shook his head. “The backup team are outmatched enough against the Takamachi girl, and I need to deal with the Jewel Seed. If he’s holding the attention of one of the hostiles singlehandedly, then that’s one less hostile for us to worry about. Besides, he’s a defence specialist. He’ll be fine.” Which was tactically sound reasoning, though perhaps not justification for the vindictive pleasure he took in using it. Still, he was sure that Scrya would be fine. Annoying though the boy was, Chrono couldn’t fault the quality of his barriers.

…

_‘Bad mousey! Come out and play!’_

The quarter-tonne feline batted at the glowing green barrier, jaws gaping wide to reveal four-inch fangs as she tried to find some purchase on the smooth surface to gnaw at. A shock sent through it caused her to yelp and back off, growling in frustration as she glared at the boy inside the sphere. He took the opportunity to turn tail and run again, boosting his steps with magic as he tried to escape the monstrous tigress who appeared to want nothing more than to use him as a chew toy.

“Please could someone come and help me already!” he cried to the sky in desperation. He shot a glare backwards at where the big cat had been effortlessly keeping pace behind him before it had turned invisible again. “And I’m a human!” he added. “Or a ferret, sometimes! Not a mouse!”

His answer came in the form of a quarter-tonne weight slamming into his Round Shield from above.

_‘Vesta POUNCE!’_

…

… yes, Chrono decided. Scrya had nothing to worry about. Chrono himself, on the other hand…

Introducing himself with a thin blue beam that scored a painful gash down the dragon’s side, he flew in to tackle it, narrowing dodging a scything blizzard of razor-edged paper that glowed a distressingly deep shade of violet. The Testarossa girl ignored him, entirely focused on blasting the monster anywhere she could. She had apparently foregone the less powerful shots she had been observed using so far in favour of stronger ones that required a few seconds of charge-up time each. It still didn’t seem to be meeting with much success.

After a few dozen seconds of combat, he could see why. The thing was a damned powerhouse, a huge, monstrous trainwreck of power and speed that was surprisingly hard to hit despite its tremendous size. Any attempt at a bombardment spell would be pointless, the sheer speed of the creature would allow it to evade effortlessly unless it was bound. And binding it presented its own problems. Not only was it strong enough to rip through any wires he got on it, but the one occasion he had managed to fasten its bottom jaw shut, its face had simply come apart into separate pages and reformed, allowing the binding to dissolve uselessly.

And on top of that, its paper body regenerated from anything either of them could throw at it. A minute and a half of silent cooperation in attempts to blast it, burn it, electrocute it, freeze it and even soak it in levitated water had accomplished nothing but to slow it down. And despite all three mages trying to force it away from its goal, Chrono could see the edge of the dimensional barrier growing closer and closer as it edged the combat towards the purple-grey dome.

 _‘Sir!’_ It was Lanster. _‘We’ve lost Hostile 2! She pulled some sort of area effect move emanating outward from herself – it looked like what she used to destroy that thorn-based one. It caught Hei- Cadet Zwischenfall as she was between roofs, and the hostile managed to shoot me in the side of the head as I went to catch her. She’ll be inbound on you in less than a minute.’_

Chrono ground his teeth. _‘Acknowledged,’_ he sent. _‘Get Cadet Jhanashdi to check you over, then follow along to provide support.’_ It was bad news, though. While the appearance of another AA-rank mage would probably tip the tide over into doing more damage than the dragon could heal, it would also almost guarantee that they would be the ones to leave with the Jewel Seed. He tightened his grip on S2U, watching the blonde girl ducking under a paper lash with acrobatic grace. He would have to time this _perfectly_.

Takamachi roared in like a pink-hued comet, and only Amy’s warning telepathic scream alerted him to what _else_ was incoming. Eyes widening in panic, he discarded his hastily-made plan to try and combat the two of them and dived forwards, flaring his magic to attract the beast and luring it upwards. Upwards, away from the ground, away from the girls, away from the high-rise buildings around them. Up into the open sky.

Even knowing which direction to look in, he only caught a brief blur from the middle distance.

The sheer force of the impact, when it came an instant later, almost knocked him out of the sky. The sound was incredible, a ringing crash that must have been audible an entire city block away. Blinded by the brilliant flash of light, Chrono shed altitude to get away from the ringing after-effects and the falling paper, no longer glowing so vividly. As soon as the sunspots had cleared from his eyes, he looked up. And paled.

With a single strike, Grangaitz had split the dragon clean in half. Lengthways. The two halves of its long, sinuous body writhed and twitched weakly as they fell, trying to regenerate but unable to do anything other than disintegrate into harmless sheets of paper as they drifted downwards, the glow slowly fading from them. The man himself was standing where his strike had finished, spear held forward in the culmination of the swing that had rent the creature asunder. His head turned minutely as a less bulky figure soared in, scooping up the weakly glowing Jewel Seed in mail-clad hands and crushing its feeble attempts to reactivate with calm but ruthless force.

Satisfied at the subdual of the primary target, the distant figure’s head turned downwards, toward the girls hovering far below him. Chrono was too far away from them to hear anything, but nonetheless he thought he caught a quiet “oh no” from their direction.

 _‘Lanster,’_ Chrono sent, keeping his distance for now. _‘Don’t bother coming here. Go after the familiar and help Scrya.’_

 _‘No need, sir,’_ came the quick reply. _‘Scrya reports that the familiar just broke off its pursuit and headed your way at speed. We’re following as fast as we can.’_ Chrono nodded absently, not really surprised. So the cat-familiar was coming to help her mistress. It wouldn’t, he was fairly sure, do much good. With this much force arrayed against them, the girls would have to pull off a miracle to avoid capture now.

One of the figures above stayed high, still crushing down the last of the Jewel Seed’s protests and sealing it. The other one dived, spear held ready, in a sudden and lightning-fast stoop towards the nine-year olds. One of them shot away on a level trajectory, back towards the backup team and her familiar. The other rose up to meet the descending powerhouse, her familiar following at a close distance.

Their clash was earth-shattering, breaking every window nearby and sending the smaller girl tumbling back downwards at speed. Not sticking around to see any more, Chrono turned, sighted the fleeing silhouette of the native, and set out at an angle to head her off before she got there.

…

Bad bad bad bad bad. This was very, very bad. Nanoha hurtled through the city heights, keeping an eye on the dark-clad figure moving to cut her off. A glance back gave her a brief snapshot of Fate fighting the giant spear-wielder, and she winced in worry at the crashes that their collisions were producing. The man had cut the paper-dragon-thing in half with one blow! How were they supposed to compete with a monster like that? From the look of things, it was only Fate’s insane speed that was allowing her to fight him at all, and even with that taken into account, she was losing ground quickly. They needed some sort of a miracle.

Fortunately, Nanoha had already thought of one. She hadn’t shared the half-formed plan with Fate, mostly because she was pretty sure the other girl would deem it insane. But she was relatively sure it would work. Now all she needed to do was to shrug off the Enforcer and get Vesta to carry it out.

A thought on how to accomplish the former occurred to her, and she rolled to avoid a trio of sniper shots from the boy pulling over in front of her. They weren’t really meant to hit her, more to get her attention and force her to back off, preventing her from getting away from the second mage who was still sealing the Jewel Seed. That would be his goal here, slow her down enough for that one to get here. All he had to do was present enough of a barrier that she couldn’t get past him without being hit. He would be expecting her to try and dodge past the shots he fired, and slip around him.

So she altered her course to collide with him, and sped up.

It was fairly clear from the widening of his eyes that he hadn’t expected that. Even if she had been meaning to try a melee attack, she would have slowed down enough to properly use her weapon. This, though, was nothing short of an all-out ramming attack, and he took the opening for what it was worth, shooting her twice in the shoulder as she shot towards him and dodging to one side. She could see him preparing to bind her as she went past, and at the speed she was going at, she couldn’t correct her course enough to hit him now that he had started evading.

She did, however, come close enough to see his face as her Barrier Jacket shone white, and detonated explosively.

Coughing, waving away smoke and nursing her shoulder as the smoke from the explosion cleared and her Barrier Jacket reformed around her, Nanoha winced. Those two shots had been well-placed and powerful. She wasn’t going to try that again, that was for sure. A telepathic purr of joy signalled Vesta’s approach, and she smiled through the pain at her familiar’s happiness.

_‘Hi, Vesta-chan. Did you have fun?’_

_‘Uh huh! Lots! I chased the mousey all over town like you said, until he turned into a smaller mousey and hid in a hole that I couldn’t get at. Are you okay, mistress?’_

Nanoha looked down speculatively at the hole in a garage roof that Chrono had made as he fell.

 _‘I’m fine,’_ she declared. _‘Now come on, we have to go and help Fate-chan and Arf-chan, and then get out of here. Fast.’_ She raised Raising Heart to her lips and kissed the crimson ruby of its core, speaking softly to it out loud. “Just like we went over, Raising Heart. Okay?”

[Let’s do our best, master!] Even the mechanical tones of the Device sounded confident, though this was by far the most ambitious spell they had performed yet. It would still take too long to cast, though, unless she could find a lot of ambient mana…

Nanoha’s eyes alighted on the cloud of falling paper, still glowing softly as they fluttered through the air, each tinged with a pale shade of violet. Vesta landed beside her, growling happily, and her hand drifted out to stroke the soft, silky fur absently.

“Stay close, Vesta,” she said. “Protect me.”

And headed back towards the battleground, straight for the centre of the cloud.

She got halfway there without incident. Then things started going wrong. The flashes of gold and orange were holed up between two skyscrapers, and Fate was obviously having trouble. The huge man was stunningly fast and powerful, his Barrier Jacket shrugging off direct hits as he slashed Arf’s binds in half and delivered brutal, punishing blows with the haft of his spear. He wasn’t using the lethal-looking head, which was perhaps the one small mercy that had prevented Fate from going down already, but she was already heavily favouring one leg, and had an ugly bruise covering the side of her face from where she hadn’t dodged fast enough.

Nanoha shouldn’t have been paying so much attention to her friend’s plight. It was a combat situation, and what she was doing was dangerous, flying into the middle of a battlefield while preparing a complex spell that demanded considerable attention. But her concern won out over her rationality, and so she was trying to pick out details of how badly off her friend was when the woman chose to make herself known.

The fact that Nanoha’s Barrier Jacket had almost finished repairing itself from the reactive detonation she had used to take out the Enforcer was the only thing that saved her arm from being broken. The woman appeared out of nowhere on Nanoha’s left, freewheeling past her on a road of light at high speed and clipping her upper arm with a gauntleted fist that smashed clean through the Protection spell Raising Heart put up without slowing down. Even the reduced, partial impact was enough to cause a horrible wrench and a blinding stab of pain that almost made Nanoha fall out of the sky before she caught herself. She cried out at the pain of what was probably a dislocated shoulder, ducking away from the road and spinning around frantically, trying to follow its path to locate where the woman was now.

 _‘Give yourself up!’_ the woman called out telepathically as Nanoha searched for her position. _‘Put your hands in the air and surrender, and you will not be harmed!’_ Nanoha ignored her, eyes flickering around the winding blue tracks to locate their endpoint.

Vesta’s scream of warning proved that this was not a good way to find her blindingly quick opponent, and she shot straight downwards just fast enough for another of those bone-shattering punches to breeze over her head. Though it didn’t seem quite as powerful as the last. The woman was holding back a little more after dislocating her arm with the first blow.

Even with that, though, her position was not good. Her left arm was unusable, and the woman was too fast for Vesta to react against in time. She had already shown herself able to punch through shields and barriers, and far too much of Nanoha’s attention was taken up by the spell she was gathering energy with – energy which she had already soaked up enough of that letting it go again was not a valid option. And it would take her at least another minute to gather enough to cast the spell.

She would not, she knew, last another minute. She had to get to that cloud of paper.

A whirring announced the woman’s return, this time heading straight for her. Nanoha screamed, flipping over and flying away as fast as she could. This was _not_ how she wanted to fight. People shouldn’t be fast enough to get up in your face like that! The woman was a monster at close range, she had to get away. But somehow, even in free flight, the metal-clad figure was gaining on her, rollerskates sending up twin rows of sparks on the road of light she moved on.

 _‘Vesta!’_ pleaded Nanoha. Her familiar’s understanding was instant and in total agreement with her. She wasn’t yet fast enough to intercept the woman’s attacks before they hit her mistress, which left one other way of doing her job. Jaws open in a silent roar, the three-metre long tigress leapt back towards their pursuer, muscles coiling and illusion falling away as she pounced in an vicious charge of claws and fangs.

The woman swerved to the side faster than Nanoha would have thought possible, and backhanded her in the ribs. With an audible snapping noise and a strangled yelp, Vesta flew off to one side and fell out of sight, Nanoha’s panicked shriek following her.

But that brief reprieve gave Nanoha’s terrified mind time to latch onto an observation. The woman was moving on a track. That meant she probably couldn’t go straight upwards. Veering through ninety degrees, Nanoha skyrocketed upright, firing half a dozen Divine Shooters down at her monster of an opponent with all the power she could spare. Two missed entirely. One, she simply punched clean through, scattering the motes of light with a casual wave of her hand. The remaining three struck clean and true against her layered metal armour, and utterly failed to even rock her backwards on her heels. For a second, she craned to look up at Nanoha’s new altitude, judging it.

Then she gathered herself, and leapt.

The jump took her far beyond anything humanly possible, cresting even higher than the level Nanoha had fled to. As she started to fall again, the road sprang to life ahead of her, a curving downward path leading her straight towards Nanoha. Her rollerblades touched down on the glowing surface as smoothly and naturally as an acrobat born on the high bars and she somehow, impossibly, accelerated even more, shooting down towards Nanoha like an arrow from a bow, her mailed fist cocked back in readiness.

Tears of fear brimming in her eyes, Nanoha threw everything she had left into the strongest bind she could manage. This close, the woman couldn’t dodge in time, and the glowing pink bands caught her full in the chest. Without waiting to see the results, Nanoha flipped over and shot towards the still-fluttering cloud that was all that was left of the Jewel Seed’s manifestation. All she had to do was reach it in time.

Behind her, a harsh electronic voice barked out something - [Losketten Knöchel!] - and she felt the bind shatter like glass under a violent wrench. But there was no time to think about that, because the cloud was coming up and she pushed her mana out into the surroundings and _pulled_ …

But she could hear the whirring of the rollerblades, even as colour leeched from the pages and the light within her grew. She was almost ready, but she wouldn’t be ready fast enough. The woman was an unstoppable juggernaut, ripping through anything she threw at her, and too fast to get away from. Pale and trembling, Nanoha turned…

Just in time to see a grey and black form tackle the approaching woman from the side, knocking her off the light-road completely. _‘Mistress!’_ yelled Vesta, pain clearly evident in her mental voice, _‘Hurry! I’ll hold her off as long as I can!’_

The last of the mana trickled in. It was actually a little more than she might have liked, the air far more supercharged with mana due to the Jewel Seed’s rampage, but she would have to accept the corresponding loss of control. It was enough to cast successfully, and that was all that mattered. Below her, she saw the glint of metal as the woman got away from Vesta’s savage attempts to maul her and rose, not bothering with a road anymore, pushing herself for true flight. Mentally, she screamed at Fate and Arf, a barrage that was comprised more of images and emotion than words, warning them of what was coming.

And then she pointed Raising Heart out across the city and vaguely upwards, and let loose the energy she had gathered in a voice hoarse from screaming.

“ _Starlight Breaker!_ ”

The blast cone eclipsed the sky.

…

It was nothing like the Divine Buster. That was a coherent beam, a concentrated pillar of power sent against one target. This bore as much resemblance to the bombardment technique it had been based on as a tsunami did to a river. The energy erupted from Raising Heart, a cataclysmic outsurging of power that spread and spread and spread, roaring out in a jagged, irregular torrent that shook the sky and made the air around it scream. The light was blinding, the sound was deafening, and everyone airborne dived downwards in an instinctive urge to get away from the deluge, which wasn’t so much targeted at any particular point as much as the entire skyline.

Unfortunate high-rise buildings that caught the top of the wave were obliterated, the winds of its passage filled the streets with gales, and the far edge of the dimensional barrier rang like a bell the size of a city as the uncontrolled torrent struck it, battering against it until the last of the raging flames died away, the over-taxed barrier starting to flicker and fade as they did so.

Blinking and battered, shielding their eyes warily in case of another blast, the agents of the TSAB looked around from where they had landed, searching for their opponents.

But to no avail. Ready for the blast where the TSAB hadn’t been, the girls had vanished without a trace.

…

The door to the apartment swung open and Nanoha trudged in, dragging her feet in exhaustion. She had taken the long route home, carefully circling around half the city on foot with her mana suppressed so as not to lead any possible tails back to the penthouse. Moving sluggishly into the main room, she found all three other occupants waiting for her, having already made it home.

There was also a mug of hot chocolate on the low table. Blissfully, she fell onto the couch and cradled it in her right hand, drinking deeply from the warm, soothing liquid and sighing in gratitude. Little ripples covered the surface – she was still trembling, it seemed, and the mug clattered slightly as she carefully put it back down, the pain in her arm a dull ache that made it hard to think straight, or at all.

“… what was that?”

Fate’s voice didn’t sound angry, or accusatory. In fact, it didn’t sound much of anything, she was apparently too exhausted to muster up anything but a dull monotone. Nanoha blinked slowly as her tired mind processed the question, only working out what the other girl meant after a pause of a few seconds.

“Um,” she mumbled, “Starlight Breaker. It draws on all the ambient mana from the surroundings to increase the power. I got the idea… from what Vesta-chan said about using ambient mana instead of the Jewel Seeds.” She glanced over worriedly at her familiar, who was draped on a soft cushion in kitten form. “Is she okay?”

 _‘I’ll live,’_ croaked Vesta without looking up or opening her eyes. _‘You’d make me a happy kitty if you told me you hit the crazy metal lady with that thing, though.’_

Nanoha’s mouth twitched slightly, but she shook her head. “I don’t think so. She was too low. It was meant to be a distraction.”

“It succeeded.” Fate’s eyes fixed on her, before settling into a slight frown. “Your left arm looks wrong. What happened?”

Nanoha cast her mind back. “Ah… the woman. The metal one. With the punching.” She rubbed at her stinging eyes with the back of her hand. “She… hit me. I can’t move it. It hurts a lot.”

Fate shifted a couple of times in her armchair, before looking pleadingly at Arf. Grumbling slightly, the orange wolf nudged her muzzle behind her master and helped push her upright, then quickly moved to steady her as she wobbled alarmingly. Leaning on Arf, she stumbled over and half-sat, half-collapsed onto the couch next to Nanoha. A few seconds of examination, and she sighed.

“Dislocated shoulder. Here.” She fumbled around for a moment, before handing Nanoha a cushion. “Bite. This will hurt.”

Obligingly, Nanoha swallowed nervously and took a grip on the cushion with her teeth. She felt Fate’s gentle hands on her shoulder, feather-light, and tensed slightly.

“Count of three,” Fate murmured. “One. Two.”

Pain exploded through Nanoha’s shoulder as something grated, and her arm popped back into its socket. She bit down hard on the cushion, a strangled scream forcing its way up her throat, and then sagged as the cool wash of healing magic spread through her arm and shoulder, taking the pain away.

“That… should do for the pain,” Fate offered, lamely. “Not enough power to make it heal quicker at the moment. Tomorrow, maybe.” The bruise on her face was by now an angry purple that covered half her cheek and most of her right eye, and Nanoha suspected she’d been too low on power to fix that, either. Vesta’s breathing seemed natural and unpained, though, so it looked as though she had received at least basic treatment for whatever that woman’s blow had done to her ribs. Or possibly that as a magical construct, it was easier for her to fix herself. Nanoha didn’t know, and was too tired to care. Arf, while the fur made it hard to tell, appeared to be singed and bruised, but nonetheless in the best condition of them all.

“… we should go back to the Garden,” breathed Nanoha in defeat, considering the scope of their loss.

“No.” Fate’s answer was in the same exhausted monotone, but the speed and firmness of it made her position clear.

“We can’t win against them,” Nanoha argued. “They’re too strong. If we try that again, we’ll be caught for sure!”

“And if we teleport home, with mages of that calibre in the city,” pointed out the blonde without looking at her, “the chances are that they will detect it, and track us back to the Garden. Which will lead them to Mother. And Alicia.”

“But-”

“Mother has all of the Jewel Seeds we’ve gathered so far. We haven’t collected any more. We don’t have anything here that would help with casting the spell.” The crimson gaze settled on her, as implacable and determined as the time that seemed so long ago now, when they had first clashed as rivals for the Jewel Seeds. “She doesn’t need us. If we went back, she’d be gaining nothing and risking everything. We stay here.”

For that, Nanoha had no reply. Bowing her head, she shifted over to rest slightly against Fate’s shoulder, on the side opposite the impact that had bruised her face. Closing her eyes, she shivered, curling closer to Fate’s warmth.

“… okay,” she said. A pause. “I’m scared, though.”

Shifting. A faint impact, and a brief padding. A small, furry form clambered up onto the couch and rested in her lap, purring reassuringly. Another warm presence, this one large and heavy, lay down at their feet, and Fate’s hand searched out her own in the space between them.

“I know,” said Fate. “Me too.”

Blue eyes blinked sleepily at the admission, but the demands of stress and exhaustion overrode that of surprise, and they drifted closed. Red ones followed them less than a minute later.

Silence fell, save for scared, shallow sounds of breathing and the wind outside the windows.

It would be a long night.

…


	10. Chapter Nine

The next day dawned rainy and miserable. Water streaked down the windows of the penthouse apartment and the wind whistled as it flowed around the high building. Woken by a sharp, needling pain in her lap, Nanoha blearily jerked awake and shivered. It had, perhaps, not been a terribly good idea to go to sleep without getting changed for bed. Or in the main room of the apartment. Or on the couch, leaning on Fate’s shoulder.

Gingerly extracting her deadened left arm from behind the blonde’s back and bringing her other hand up to her neck, she winced. Resting her head on her friend had been a source of comfort last night, but the end result of a night spent that way had been to put a crick in it that was now complaining loudly and painfully about its orientation. Rolling her head carefully to loosen it up, she stifled a squeak as another bout of needle-like pain shot through her thighs and looked down at the source.

It was Vesta. The little kitten was still occupying her lap, and appeared to be restless in her sleep, digging her claws into Nanoha’s legs and gnawing voraciously on a fold of her skirt.

“Mmmf…” Nanoha mumbled, rubbing sleep out of her eyes with the arm that still had feeling. “Stop that, Vesta.” She jostled one leg, shaking her familiar. It did not appear to have any noticeable effect. She frowned, and winced again as tiny paws kneaded her knee.

 _‘Vesta!’_ she ordered sharply, telepathically so as not to wake Fate. The other girl looked like she needed the rest. _‘Ow! Stop that!’_

 _‘Grah! Mousey!’_ The small grey-black lump twitched and pounced from its prone position, both front paws scissoring out to catch a fleeing figment of her dream. Given her precarious position on her mistress’s lap, this served only to take her halfway off the end of Nanoha’s knees into mid-air.

_‘Aaaahhh!’_

There was a quiet thud and a faint grunt as she bounced off Arf, who was still lying at their feet, and tumbled onto the floor. She came to a stop on her back with her hind legs dangling forward over her head, almost as if she had been attempting to do a handstand which had failed. Forlornly, she blinked up at Nanoha.

 _‘… ow,’_ she said. _‘Where’d Mousey go?’_

Nanoha smiled fondly and levered herself up off the couch, careful not to disturb the girl still sleeping on it. Lodging a cushion against the back to prop up her head now that Nanoha’s own was no longer there, she bent to gather Vesta up in her arms. _‘Come on now,’_ she said. _‘I need a bath.’_ A cracked-open eye showed that Arf was awake, but apart from rolling it to watch her go, the wolf didn’t move.

_‘W-wait a minute. Um… Mistress? You’re… not thinking of taking me into the bath, are you? Mistress?’_

Nanoha surreptitiously adjusted her grip before answering. “Yes, I am. Your fur is all messy from…” she sniffed, “… is that cat food?”

Vesta guiltily shifted, her mind going to the current state of the kitchen. _‘Um… maybe? I had to eat a lot to help my ribs recover.’_

“Then you’re having a bath.” Nanoha’s grip thwarted the instinctive, panicked attempts at escape, and she ignored Vesta’s pleading wails as she slid the bathroom door open with a foot and closed it again. “Vesta,” she sighed, holding the kitten up to look her seriously in the eyes, “we can do this the easy way, or… or the also-easy way. You can turn into a human, and I can help you like that, or I'll wash you in the sink in cat form. And if you even _think_ of going war-cat, I'll use the shower hose on you.”

Vesta whimpered pathetically, but to no avail. Her mistress’s mind was made up. Grudgingly, she shone white as her form expanded into the shape of a nine-year old girl, with small fangs peeking out where she was biting her lower lip and tousled grey-black hair that still smelt strongly of cat food.

Unfortunately, she neglected to wait for Nanoha to put her down first.

The sudden increase in size and mass of her burden sent Nanoha to the floor with a thump, and Vesta was almost instantly scrambling towards the sliding door of the bathroom on all fours, her knees catching on the pleated hem of her frock dress,

[Restrict Lock,] came a tone from behind her, and she suffered an abrupt fall as her ankles snapped together, held by a band of pink light.

“H-hey!” she protested. “No fair! That’s cheating!”

Nanoha just rolled her eyes at the stubborn cat-girl. “No, it’s not,” she said. “Now, I'm going to look at your ribs, too. I took a first aid course, and Raising Heart will help me, right?”

[Alright, my master.]

Vesta glared at the little gem, trying to innocuously saw at the bindings with a glowing red claw. “Traitor!” she hissed, before turning back to Nanoha. “Fine then! In that case, I’m… I'm going to look at your arm! How do you like that, huh?”

The grateful expression was not one she was expecting in response. “Oh, would you?” exclaimed Nanoha. “It's really aching, and I'm pretty sure it's bruised or something. Thank you!”

Robbed of vengeance and resigned to her fate, Vesta pouted. Her sulky expression was quickly replaced by one of concern, however, as Nanoha’s clothes shimmered into pink light and dissipated.

“Ah! Mistress!” Forgetting the looming threat of water for a moment, she wriggled until the binding released and dashed over to Nanoha, her feet skidding on the smooth tiles of the bathroom floor.

“Ahhh…” she moaned in frustration, “you’re all beat up and mangled! Look at you!” Gingerly, she traced her fingers along the ugly, purpling bruise that covered most of Nanoha’s shoulder and upper arm, two angry red swellings prominent even over the rest of the battering she had received. Nanoha smiled sheepishly.

“Ah heh… it looks worse than it is, really. Though… um… I don’t think I can lift it very far. Can you help me into the furo?”

Glancing suspiciously at the steaming water of the hot bath, Vesta sighed and relented. Keeping one hand protectively over her hair, she moved to Nanoha’s other side and carefully helped her up and into the soothing hot water.

…

An hour of soaking later, during which the task of washing the cat food out of Vesta’s hair had managed to get water on the walls, floor, ceiling, towels and sink before any had actually touched her head, Nanoha was feeling considerably better. The heat of the bath had done wonders for the stiffness and aching in her shoulder, and while the bruise still looked ugly, Vesta’s application of the Physical Heal spell had at least reduced it down to a point where Nanoha could move it.

Once again mobile, she proceeded into the kitchen to feed her now-clean familiar. Vesta padded along behind her, occasionally pausing for long enough to clean part of her fur and wrinkle her nose in disgust at the lingering taste of shampoo and soap. Upon getting there, however, Nanoha encountered a slight problem.

“Oh my… Vesta!”

At least a dozen tins of cat food littered the sideboard, a couple more having fallen to the floor. Most of them had been cut cleanly through the centre, diagonal slashes splitting them in two to bare their contents to the world – and while most of the contents had been eaten, liberal amounts remained smeared onto the kitchen surfaces and tiling. Tufts of fur on the clean-cut edges suggested that in some cases, Vesta had resorted to sticking her head in completely to get at the tasty meat.

 _‘What?’_ replied Vesta. _‘I was really hungry! And I needed the food to heal my ribs! That backhand hurt, you know. Crazy metal lady is a lot stronger than she looks.’_ Left unsaid was the fact that the woman had looked strong to begin with. _‘Anyway, I’m hungry again. Is there any more left?’_

Huffing in exasperation, Nanoha searched through the cupboards, peeking into the fridge just in case there was some left in there. Nothing showed itself, and after a second round of the cupboards, she gave up in defeat.

“There’s none left,” she declared in finality. “You’ve eaten it all, greedy-guts.” She nudged the little kitten with a toe, and got an imploring expression of heartbroken pleading in return.

_‘But… but what am I going to eat? I can’t not eat! I’ll starve and go all thin and weak and then die and turn into a skeleton and all my bones will fall everywhere and I won’t be able to tuck my claws in and if I eat anything then it’ll just fall straight through me and-‘_

“Vesta!” Nanoha interrupted, if only to stop the increasingly frantic panic that her kitten was working herself into. “Look, this is your fault for eating all of the food, so you’ll have to…”

Big blue eyes stared at her beseechingly from ground level.

“… have to…”

Grey-tufted ears fluttered slightly as Vesta’s tail drooped, and she seemed to shrink in on herself in forlorn misery. Had she been human, her eyes would have been brimming with tears and her lip would have been quivering. Faced with the emotional assault, Nanoha did the only thing she could.

“… you’ll have to wait here while I go get some more from the store,” she sighed, keying up some warm clothes with a mental command to Raising Heart. She shrugged out of the physical, fluffy bathrobe she was wearing as they materialised around her – warm trousers, boots and a thick jumper. After a trepiditious glance out of the window to check the weather, she hastily added a coat. A big, waterproof coat.

“But!” she added with a glare, “I expect to find this kitchen _spotless_ when I get back, is that clear? Clean up _all_ the mess you made, or I’ll take all of the food back!”

Leaving Vesta’s indignant protests behind her, she quickly called to Arf and told her where she was going, before taking the elevator down to the lobby. Black-haired and brown-eyed by the time the doors pinged open, she took a deep breath at the door and then stepped out into the rain.

It was miserable. It was _thoroughly_ miserable, the rain coming down in sheets. Puddles the size of people formed on the pavements and water ran in streams down the streets and along the gutters. A rubbish bin somewhere had been blown over, and scraps of paper and plastic bags whirled around in the wind, tugged this way and that by snatching gusts and breezes. Nanoha was cursing herself for not having brought an umbrella within minutes of stepping out the door, but what was done was done. She was not in the mood to turn around and go back to get one now, so she simply tugged her hood further over her head, huddled further into her coat and toughed it out.

There were still people around, despite the rain. Umbrellas bobbed up and down through the curtains of water and hunched figures ran from building to building in quick bursts, papers and briefcases pressed against their chests as they took shelter under overhangs and awnings. Nanoha didn’t bother. She was going to get wet no matter what she did, so it was pointless wasting energy trying to avoid it.

And indeed, by the time she got to the small supermarket, she was sodden. Despondent, she squelched through the aisles until she found the tins of cat food that Vesta seemed to like the most, and loaded up as many of them as she could carry. She wasn’t too worried about the price. Fate had been reluctant to give any actual numbers for how much money the card Linith had set up had on it, nor had she gone into details about how said money had got there. But the overall impression Nanoha had received was that unless they started trying to buy out entire stores, they weren’t going to have a problem. Paying at the till and hefting the heavy bag with both hands to support it properly, she staggered out of the doors and back into the rain.

But the sudden chill of cold she felt wasn’t from the water. It was from the feeling of two magical signatures nearby. One was a Jewel Seed, just beginning to activate –close by, horribly close by. From the proximity, she was fairly sure it was in one of the shops on this street.

The other one was approaching her, and she knew with a horrible foreboding what it was. And as she turned, she was proven right. There was no time to run, no way to evade or get away. All she could do was stand there, as the wall of greyness rolled down the street and swallowed her.

A Jewel Seed was activating, a mere stone’s throw away from her – alone, injured and unprepared. And the TSAB were already on the scene.

…

Okay. Okay. Mind racing, Nanoha darted into the nearest shop – a chemist, by the look of it – and took stock of the situation. She was alone, without Vesta to guard her or Fate and Arf to fight alongside. Her arm was mobile now, but still stiff and hard to use, and the faint ringing in her ears announced the return of the mild concussion she’d suffered. And it hurt a lot whenever she raised it above shoulder-height. She had Raising Heart, but she wasn’t transformed, and her chances of doing so without being noticed were worse than those of a snowflake in a blast furnace. Which also neatly described her chances of getting away from the two elites who would probably show up within seconds of her doing so.

Okay then. So.

So… what to do?

She couldn’t try to go for the Jewel Seed. She could already faintly feel the first flashes of magical combat over the rising tide of the Jewel Seed’s aura. On the other hand, that sort of worked out for her – as long as she stayed untransformed and out of sight, they wouldn’t be able to detect her Linker Core even if they looked for it; the area was just too saturated with mana.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. Just _giving up_ , passively waiting out of sight and not even _trying_ to get the Jewel Seed for Alicia’s revival. But she had no choice. With the arrival of the two adults that had so decisively defeated them yesterday, their chances of getting any more Jewel Seeds had dwindled to getting at them before the TSAB showed up. And from the speed and efficiency of their response to this one, it looked as though that plan had just been blown out of the water.

 _‘Nanoha!’_ It was Fate. _‘Nanoha, there’s a Jewel Seed activating. How close are you?’_

 _‘Right on top of it,’_ she replied sadly. She pressed a hand to her temple – the ringing was getting louder. Had she taken that hard a hit yesterday? She knew you were meant to rest after a concussion, but surely walking to the shops to get some cat food wasn’t too strenuous? She pitched her mental voice a little louder to hear herself over the ringing, and continued hastily. _‘Fate-chan… don’t come. Stay in the apartment.’_ She cut off the beginning of Fate’s sputtered protests, talking quickly. _‘Fate-chan, the TSAB are already here. Those two mages from yesterday? They’re on sight already. I’m trapped in the Barrier and untransformed, they won’t be able to detect me over the mana in the air. We can’t get the Jewel Seed, Fate, not with them there. If you come flying in, they’ll sense you. And we can’t win that fight,_ please _, you know that!’_ Her voice rose further, desperately trying to convince her friend. _‘They won’t be put off by another Starlight Breaker, that trick won’t work again. If you and Arf and Vesta come here, we’ll all be caught and then everything goes wrong. I’ll just hide and wait for the barrier to go down and then come home, we’ve already lost this one. Please, Fate. I know it hurts, but… don’t do something reckless. We can’t win this.’_

Silence. She could feel Fate’s suppressed fury, and for a second she was afraid the girl was going to ignore her pleas and come anyway. But after a moment, the dim fires of frustration were banked, and she felt Fate grudgingly nod.

 _‘Fine,’_ she gritted out. _‘But we’re not giving up on the rest like this. When you get back, we’re going to work out a new plan.’_ She paused. _‘I’ll tell Arf and keep Vesta from going after you. I doubt she’d listen if I just told her not to. Stay low, stay quiet and stay hidden. Try and get close to the edge of the barrier, and get moving as soon as it goes down. Don’t go near the fight, don’t let any of them see you, and take the long route home. If you don’t contact me within half an hour to say you’re on your way back, I’m coming after you anyway. Okay?’_

 _‘Okay.’_ The ringing was getting _very_ loud now, and Nanoha winced at the volume of it. Fate said something else, but it was barely audible over the wailing sound. It almost seemed to be a physical presence around her.

… wait a moment. Hands over her ears, Nanoha looked around as the realisation came. It _was_ coming from outside her. The slow build-up had made her mistake it for a ringing in her ears, but it wasn’t an internal sound. In fact… it sounded rather like telepathy. A constant wail, getting steadily louder. Jamming? The TSAB had no reason to use it, so that left…

 _‘Fate-chan!’_ she shouted over the rising scream. _‘I think the Jewel Seed is doing something! Blocking telepathy! Don’t worry, I’m still okay!’_

The response, if there was any, was inaudible. The scream blocked it out – and it _was_ a scream now, a furious howl that warbled and modulated in tones that no human voice could produce, louder than a car alarm and still getting louder. Nanoha screwed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, feeling the tell-tale stirrings of a splitting headache begin to form from the sheer volume of the sound. She should do as Fate had said, go to the edge of the Barrier, hunker down and hide, stay away from the Jewel Seed and the TSAB and any chance of discovery.

But… if it could do this, what else might it be capable of? The Jewel Seeds had been getting steadily more powerful as they had activated, each one having soaked up more ambient power than the one before it. This one would be on the same tier as the dragon of yesterday, and it would almost certainly have other tricks.

What if the TSAB were outmatched? They had seemed so strong, but then, so had Fate. And she had been caught off-guard, both by the… the things at the hospital, and the thorn-Seed.

… what if they needed her help?

Biting her lip to distract herself from both the shrieking in her head and the insanity of what she was doing, as well as offering a silent prayer that Fate wouldn’t find out about this, Nanoha turned and ran towards the source of the telepathic screaming.

She would hide, and watch. And hope really, really hard that she didn’t have to step in and help. Because if she did, she really wasn’t sure what would happen afterwards.

…

A milk carton shattered against a green barrier coming the other way, spraying violet-white droplets across the glowing plane of force. As expected, there was nothing else in it. At this point, Yuuno had more or less despaired of finding the Jewel Seed with a lucky shot like that.

An ominously glowing watermelon rocketed towards his head trailing a plume of violet fire, and he swiftly formed another barrier, allowing it to smash itself apart on the wall that was suddenly in front of it. Gritting his teeth, he snapped off a dozen chains that caught and squashed most of the nearby fruit. It didn’t reduce the amount in the air by much, but it allowed him to catch a quick breath and survey the state of the battlefield.

Which was chaos. Half the contents of the supermarket they stood in were airborne, the objects that had lined the shelves mere moments ago now flying around like a nest of angry hornets. Tiida and Chrono were both near him, snapping off complex shooting spells that rebounded through dozens of items at a time, but it seemed like every carton, box or container large enough to hold the Jewel Seed was glowing the ominous deep-violet that signified its presence. Somewhere in this crazed mess of poltergeist activity, there was presumably something with the Jewel Seed in it. _Where_ it was, though, seemed about as easy a question as finding a needle in a haystack. While every straw was moving.

This would actually, Yuuno found himself musing, be a _really good_ time for one of Nanoha’s bombardment spells. The elite pair, while terrifyingly powerful, were both close-range fighters, not given to area attacks. They were mowing through targets at a rate of knots, but the supermarket was simply too big, and there were too many places the Jewel Seed could be hiding. For all they knew, it might not even be _in_ one of the whirling projectiles. Harloawn and Lanster were both precise shooting-types who could only hit so many targets at a time, even with the rebounding shots they were using, and Yuuno himself didn’t have much in the way of shooting magic, let along bombardment.

He swiped a barrier through the air like a gigantic flyswatter, buying himself a few seconds of clear space to check on how the girls from Lanster’s team were faring. They seemed to have hunkered down near the butcher’s aisle and, it looked like they were doing well against the onslaught of knives and chopping blocks. Jhanashdi appeared to be Boosting her sister, if the blurred flashing of a green sword was anything to go by, and purple needles were lancing out from behind her guard to snipe at incoming projectiles. Nevertheless, a large-scale blast to clear the air did not seem forthcoming from them.

And the _screaming!_ It was like a foghorn in his ears, a fire alarm wired straight into his temples. Communicating telepathically was impossible – he could barely even hear normal sound, it was so loud. Combined with the crashes and chaos of the hundreds of whirling items in the air, it made talking to anyone else effectively impossible. So, he was on his own as far as planning went. In fact, sequestered in a spherical barrier, he was probably the best equipped to think about things, as he didn’t have to pay much attention to maintaining it. The Device he held was a stock one, a simple Storage model that didn’t even have its own name, but it took a surprisingly large amount of the concentration and calculations off his hands, keeping the barrier in place with only a bare thread of supervision on his part.

Alright then. What could he do, here? He didn’t have the firepower to help out even if he knew where the Jewel Seed was…

His train of thought was cut off by a crash that resounded even above the screaming of the Jewel Seed. It appeared that it had given up on throwing small objects at Captain Grangaitz, and had instead resorted to entire shelves. Huge wooden racks bent like limbs in an attempt to crush the silhouetted figure on the ground, only for him to bring his spear around in a blow that turned one of them into splinters. But the ground was already bulging up, floor tiles ripping themselves off the ground to bludgeon him like a swarm of insects, and his spinning guard could only deflect so many. A barrier snapped into place around him, and almost immediately the glow from the tiles flashed to blinding white, heralding a concussive blast as they all detonated at once. His fall, while controlled, sent him clean through another shelf, the halves snapping closed to harry him once more and blocking him from sight. Up above, Nakajima’s Wing Road was barely visible through a cloud of projectiles so dense that there were scant inches between each one. From the inner partitions of the cluster, muffled explosions sounded in staccato succession.

Well. There would be no help from that quarter, it seemed. But if the problem was that they couldn’t locate the Jewel Seed, the obvious solution was to find it. He couldn’t communicate over the ear-splitting scream, but a search spell should be hard to miss, right? And he was safe inside his barrier, which meant he was perfectly positioned to cast it.

Moving his hands through familiar patterns, Yuuno swept his Device through the air and sent out a flurry of tiny green spheres. They split as they flew, subdividing themselves further to better cover the ground. Zipping from object to object in a graceful harmonic pattern, they spread out from his shield in search of the architect of the warzone the supermarket had become.

For the briefest of moments, everything they touched hung still, as if in stock. Even the scream faltered, as if astonished at the foresight or the audacity of the young mage, and it occurred to him as Harloawn turned in horror that he may have made a very slight miscalculation somewhere.

And then the telepathic scream was back, louder than ever, a bellow of such furious force and magnitude that the very roof of the building shattered explosively, raining down huge fragments of corrugated metal and glass which were caught and added to the swarming clouds.

The clouds which were glowing, and reorienting. And aiming at him.

“…rya! You…” he made out as Harloawn made a half-running, half-flying leap towards him. And then the first volley fired, a deadly shower of missiles aimed directly at him. He was pretty sure that his shield would survive these, even if they exploded… but the strain of running a search spell on so many fast-moving targets that were already trying to evade was high, and he wasn’t sure how much attention he could spare for his barriers. They would probably hold up to the first, and probably the second and third. But how long could he hold on for? He grit his teeth, forced power to his barrier and braced himself for the impact as the scream battered at his ears and mind in rage.

Which didn’t come.

Confused, he cracked an eye open, and found a web of blue threads surrounding his barrier, a second layer outside it. Beyond that. Harloawn was spinning and casting frantically, catching and deflecting the attacks with his wires as they flashed in with lethal intent, nudging them just far enough to each side that they missed. Their speed was such that they couldn’t change direction easily, and each miss took them several dozen metres beyond him before they could stop and turn to bear down on him again. And Harloawn wasn’t the only one holding them off. Red bullets flashed and turned in the air as Lanster kept up a steady stream of fire, the barrels of his revolvers starting to glow faintly from the volume of shots he was putting out. Knives broke, boxes shattered, clothes were ripped to shreds before they could entangle their targets. A volley of purple light from across the room tore through a tentacle-like stream of water, sending it hissing uselessly into steam that dissipated harmlessly into the atmosphere.

But for all of the efforts of his comrades to defend him, it was borrowed time. With every passing second, the number of projectiles the Seed could bring to bear on him was rising. The broken knives merely gave it more razor-edged pieces of metal to work with; the shattered remnants of a cordless phone were drawn apart into bullet-like plastic fragments and garrotting lengths of wire. Before long, they would be overwhelmed.

Harloawn turned as he drew a dozen wires in to snare a chunk of roof the size of a table and whipped it around in a circle, swatting lesser projectiles out of the air before sending it rocketing into a wall, where it lodged. His face was only visible for a second, and the infuriated screaming that was starting to become physically painful stopped him using telepathy, but the expression and sentiment were clear.

‘We’ll keep them off you,’ it said. The Enforcer obviously understood that locating the Seed was the only way they could win this. ‘We’ll hold them off as best as we can. Now hurry up and _find it._ ’

‘Easier said than done,’ Yuuno wished he could say. The flashing cordon of green was expanding outward, but the number of places they needed to check meant that the going was slow, and the waves of psychic force hammering his brain weren’t making it any easier. Already, some of the smaller objects were beginning to make it through, and he could feel the explosive impacts against his barrier as they struck.

And then energy filled him, a rising, buoying tide of magic and processing power that felt like a jolt of lightning to the sternum. His barrier pulsed, the glow intensifying to near-opaque levels, and his search almost tripled its speed. How… ah, Jhanashdi. She must be boosting him. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to complain about _that_ at a time like this.

Outside his dome-shaped shield, the dim figures of Harlaown and Lanster were taking a beating. The former especially seemed to be heavily favouring one leg, but was still stubbornly standing his ground, while the latter was dodging more and firing less. Damage to one of his guns? Maybe he could-

Pain. A solid wall of noise loud enough to be a physical force, that knocked him to the ground and made both barrier and search spell flicker. Yuuno dimly felt two sledgehammer impacts against his Barrier Jacket, but barely noticed them over the ice pick lodged in his skull. The Jewel Seed had given up on denying them communication and focused the entirety of its psychic assault on him alone, desperate to prevent its position from being revealed. His vision blurred as tears ran down his cheeks, and blackness started to claim his vision.

But then the assault was lessened. Not halted, not stopped, but cut through by a high, clear note. A single voice, singing with all its might in a pure tone that sliced through the warbling shriek of the Jewel Seed like a knife and gave him an anchor, a shield against the grating, disjointed chords it was throwing at him. Someone’s mental voice bent in its entirety to countering the assault.

He knew that note. He knew that voice.

 _‘Nanoha,’_ he thought, and surged the last of his reserves into the search spell, taking the respite that was offered and using it for all it was worth.

The green motes blurred into streaks of light, flashing across the room and tracking unerringly to their targets. The front of search magic expanded, racing across the floor and ceiling in short but blindingly fast arcs, engulfing every object in its path as it went.

And then it froze, each tiny emerald ball hovering motionless in the air for an instant before being pulled in straight lines to a single point, as if it were drawing in every iota of the colour from the room. A neon light hanging from the ceiling, with no violet glow around it, no signs at all of the Jewel Seed’s presence except for the cluster of search magic blazing around it like a green sun.

Ceasing his battle against the orbiting clouds and moving with snake-like speed, Chrono turned, aimed and fired.

…

Nanoha watched from a distance as the group of mages rested a moment after sealing the Jewel Seed. The black-haired girl seemed to be trying to heal a couple of them, though the Enforcer boy was waving her away and directing her towards the two adults first. She drew back behind the car she was hiding behind, using it as a shield as she quickly dashed down a side road, out of direct line of sight. Safely ensconced behind a building, she peeked around the edge of a pillar to continue watching.

_‘Nanoha?’_

She jumped. It wasn’t Fate’s voice, which had become a familiar presence in her mind. No, this was a voice she knew from earlier, and knew well.

With a supreme effort of will, she managed to prevent herself from blurting out ‘Yuuno’. Checking back on him, he was looking around, searching his surroundings. She quickly drew back behind the pillar – she might be fifty or sixty metres away, but there was still no reason to risk being spotted.

_‘Nanoha, are you there? Please, I won’t… just talk to me, Nanoha. Please.’_

She wanted to. Oh, she wanted to. But the company he was in held her back, wary.

_‘Nanoha, I…’_

But the Enforcer boy said something to him, and whatever he was going to say was lost. With a last forlorn look around, he slumped slightly and teleported away. Nanoha breathed out a mixed sigh of regret and relief. It had been terrifying to see him fall, and she had acted almost without thought, but she had been equally scared as soon as the Jewel Seed had been sealed that he would tell the others she was there.

And yet… she did want to talk to him. To reason with him, to ask him to just give them a chance. Surely, if the TSAB knew that it was for a little girl… well, Precia had said that they wouldn’t care, but Nanoha didn’t think she believed that they were all like that. She refused to believe it was useless trying to talk to them. She had to at least _try_.

The backup team had teleported back as well, leaving only the two elites doing one last check of the surroundings as the dimensional barrier began to fade. Darting behind the pillar where her sudden appearance wouldn’t draw any notice, Nanoha quickly decided which one to talk to – and despite how frightening the woman had been yesterday, the huge man was more intimidating still. Quite apart from anything else, she had seen how fast and powerful he was when he was fighting Fate.

So, clenching her fists and gulping back the butterflies of fear in her throat, feeling a little lightheaded with nervousness, she watched as the teleport circles started to appear around them and called out just as they started to grow bright.

_‘Excuse me!’_

Her timing was perfect. One circle continued to glow brighter, whisking its occupant away to parts unknown. The other paused, flickered. Faded.

The violet-haired woman looked around, a puzzled half-smile on her face under a quirked brow. Glancing around at the fading barrier, she quickly stalked over to a secluded corner that would be out of sight, her Barrier Jacket shifting to a more civilian-looking form as she did so.

 _‘Hello?’_ she replied. Her tone was curious, the low pitch of her voice giving it a slightly husky edge. _‘Would you be Nanoha-chan, by any chance? I’ve been wanting to have a chat with you for a while now.’_

 _‘Um… yes.’_ Colour bled back into the world and the rain began to patter down once more as the last of the barrier dissolved, people appearing again on the streets as the damage to the supermarket reverted. Nanoha ducked out from behind the pillar and started edging down a side road at right angles to the one that the woman was on. With the amount of magic still in the air, any hope of fine detection was still impossible, so as long as Nanoha stayed within telepathy range she could move around as she wished without giving any indication of her location. And right now, she wanted to be speaking from a distance.

_‘Okay then. I’m Quint, by the way. Warrant Officer Quint Nakajima, technically, but that’s a bit of a mouthful. Did your dad pass on the message?’_

_‘My… dad?’_

_‘Ah, he didn’t? Well, it turns out that your mum has quite the talent for magic. We picked up some pulses that turned out to be her experimenting on her own – we actually thought it was you, for a while. I stopped over to warn your parents against using magic without understanding what they were doing, and asked him to pass on a message that we’d like to speak to you about what you’re doing. But it looks like you decided to come and talk on your own. I’m impressed.’_

Nanoha bit her lip. That… did sound fairly innocent, admittedly. And after seeing the Jewel Seeds, she could sort of understand the point about playing with magic unsupervised. She made a mental note to get her mother a basic primer on magic at some point soon.

_‘Well, I can’t say what we’re doing. But I promise that it’s for a good cause! And we’re being as safe as we can, and I’m sure we can do it. So please can you let us try?’_

Quint sounded patient as she replied. _‘If I was refusing to explain what I was doing to you, but asking you to trust me while I put people in danger, would you?’_ Nanoha winced slightly. Put that way, it brought up rather uncomfortable memories of when she had been in exactly that position opposite Fate. But then again… when she had learnt what Fate was doing, it had convinced her to help.

 _‘Look,’_ continued Quint, _‘from all the evidence we have, Precia is dying. She may only last a few more months. She’s certainly not as strong as she once was. Even if she thinks she can control the Jewel Seeds, it would be beyond all but the best mages even at their prime. She’s far more likely to lose control of them, and if that happens then_ billions of people will die _. That’s why the TSAB was founded, to stop Lost Logia from killing huge numbers of innocent people. Both on their own, and when mages accidentally set them off while thinking they can control them. I’ve seen so many mages think that, and they’ve almost all been dead wrong. Often literally.’_ She sighed. _‘If we bring Precia in alive – which we will make every reasonable effort to do, I promise – then she won’t just be thrown in jail, Nanoha-chan. She’s too ill for that. She’d be taken to a penal hospital, and looked after for the rest of her days. She wouldn’t be allowed to leave, no, but she’s ill enough that even if she was, she’d have to stay there anyway. Please cooperate with us in this, I can tell you’re a good person.’_

Frustration coiled through Nanoha’s chest as she paused her progression down the latest road she was retreating down, making her tremble slightly from the force of it. Why wouldn’t she see? _‘But what about Ali-’_ she blurted, and froze, horrified. An awful silence fell, and seemed to last an age. When it next came, Quint’s voice was gentle.

_‘Alicia? Her daughter? Nanoha-chan… Alicia is dead. You can’t bring back the dead. Is that what she’s trying to do? Because trust me, it’s been tried before – it won’t work. If that’s her aim, she’s sure to fail. She should know that. If you had a proper education in magic, you’d know it too.’_

_‘But you can’t_ say _that for sure!’_ Nanoha exploded, stamping her foot in aggravation and drawing curious stares from several passers-by as she did so, as well as soaking her foot in an inconveniently-placed puddle. _‘Everything ever had never been done until someone did it! Just because nobody’s ever done it before doesn’t mean it’s impossible!’_

Back on the road outside the hospital, Quint squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. _‘Nanoha-chan… I understand how she feels, sort of. I’ve never lost a child, but I remember what it was like to be told I could never have any in the first place.’_

Nanoha blinked, taken by surprise at the sudden shift. _‘You can’t have children?’_ she asked. That sounded… horrible. She tried to imagine how her mother would have felt if she’d not been able to have Nanoha.

 _‘No,’_ Quint confirmed, _‘and it was at a time when I was trying for kids with my husband… it hurt a lot. And it’s not something I can fix, or make better. But trying in vain isn’t a good thing. I can sympathise with Precia, and I feel more sorry for her than I can say. Nobody should have to lose their baby like that. But Alicia is_ gone _, and trying to get her back will bring nothing but more pain. She’d be better off spending what’s left of her life with the daughter she still has, instead of chasing after the one she lost. How is she even planning to do it?’_

 _‘… I can’t say that.’_ Nanoha shivered. She’d already said far, far too much, and inadvertently let slip their goal. _‘But… but surely, if anyone would know, it would be Precia? She’s really smart, and a genius, and she’s sure that it will work! Can’t you give us just a_ chance _to try? If it doesn’t work then I’m sure she can shut the Jewel Seeds down again – Fate-chan has done that once already, and she’s nowhere near as powerful as her mother! Please let us see if we can do it, it’s a little girl’s life!’_

Quint grimaced, dragging a palm down her face. There were holes in the girl’s arguments, fallacies and mistaken assumptions that she probably wasn’t aware she was making. But she could tell that actually convincing the girl would take something more than just combating her points.

_‘Okay… how about this. I can promise, Nanoha-chan, that if you surrender now and come back to the Asura with me… well. You still won’t get off scot-free, given some of the things you’ve done. But it would be much reduced, and cooperation with the TSAB in locating Precia will reduce it even further. You’d probably get a temporary Limiter that would restrict you a few ranks, and a tutor to teach you about Dimensional Space and magic. If you made a concerted effort to learn, and maybe volunteered to help the TSAB save lives or combat Lost Logia, you’d probably have the Limiter taken off fully by the time you were thirteen or so, and you’d be offered a place in the TSAB helping people. You seem to care about people a lot – you could get a job in disaster rescue, maybe, how does that sound?’_

She paused a moment, letting the option sink in. Nanoha had to admit, the second part did seem attractive. Helping people, using magic, saving lives…

… but it would mean giving up on Alicia. Betraying Precia. Betraying Fate. She stayed silent, and Quint sighed.

 _‘But… the other option is that you go through with this, Nanoha-chan. And if you do, if you knowingly help activate a Lost Logia with full awareness of the risks… you’re not going to get off that easily._ Billions of people could die _– it’s happened before, it can happen again. And even if it doesn’t, even if by some miracle this fails safely – even if you_ succeeded _somehow…’_ She trailed off, sounding very old and tired for a moment.

 _‘What would happen to me?’_ Nanoha asked in a small voice, as the silence stretched on. Quint sighed again.

_‘… it would depend on how the trial turned out. But the worst case? You’d have a full Limiter put on you. It would restrict any and all ability for you to channel magic from your Linker Core, preventing you from using any magic at all, ever. We can’t risk having someone who is willing to activate Lost Logia on the level of the Jewel Seeds and who’s as powerful as you are running around Dimensional Space. We don’t have the authority to take you off your planet or imprison you, but if you’re judged to be a threat to society at large, we would… well, defang you. So to speak. You’d have a tracking spell woven into the Limiter that would alert us if you ever left the planet – you’d be free to have a non-magical life here, like your mum, you wouldn’t be restricted any more than if you’d never discovered magic in the first place. But your magic would be bound permanently. You’d be confined here for life.’_

The silence that followed was long and horrified, broken only by the drumming of the rain against the pavement.

 _‘I don’t want that to happen to you,’_ Quint added, after a moment. _‘You’re a brilliant young girl, your friend Yuuno thinks the world of you. Your heart is good, and you have so much potential. Please, Nanoha-chan, come up to the Asura with me and we can talk this out up there and let you off easily. I don’t want to see your potential wasted like that.’_

No response, save the faint tinges of terror and horror that Nanoha was unconsciously letting slip over the link. She tried again.

_‘Nanoha, please. Just talk to me, talk to us. We can show you-’_

_‘Thank you for the offer,’_ Nanoha interrupted, and her voice was… different. Quiet and calm; firm, somehow, in a way that it hadn’t been before. _‘I know you’re a good person too, and that you’re doing what you think is right. But I don’t… I_ can’t _agree with it. Saving Alicia-chan is possible. I know that, I’m certain of it. I understand you don’t think we can do it, and that you’re worried that we’ll hurt someone. So I promise that we won’t, and that I’ll_ show _you that you’re wrong. That we can make this work.’_

Nanoha paused, and Quint gritted her teeth as she felt the adamant force of will that the young girl carried behind her words. Why was it that the younger a person was, the more certain they were that they couldn’t be wrong? Why couldn’t kids listen to people older and wiser than them, just for once? She started to respond, but Nanoha was already talking again.

_‘I refuse to give up on Alicia-chan. I won’t betray the trust of Fate-chan or Precia-san. I’m sorry I called the TSAB bad; you’re good guys underneath, I get that now. But you’re wrong about this. And if I have to prove that to you, I will.’_

The girl’s words were starting to sound distant now, a tell-tale sign that she was getting to the edge of her range. Had she been moving away the entire time they had been talking? Quint cursed inwardly. _‘Nanoha!’_

 _‘Goodbye, Nakajima-san,’_ came a parting whisper, _‘thank you for talking to me.’_

Quint lashed out desperately, trying to find a trace of the girl’s mind or magic. But the taint of the Jewel Seed was still too thick in the air, and her telepathic presence was simply gone, faded into the distance and carefully suppressed. Resisting the urge to swear again, Quint tapped the sealed form of her Device and directed her telepathy at it, allowing it to relay her words up to the Asura.

 _‘She’s gone,’_ she said. _‘Did you find her?’_

A jewelled form glinted as it manoeuvred through the rain and came to rest on her shoulder. As it landed, the reply came from on high.

 _‘No,’_ said Megane tiredly. _‘Too many people, too much interference from the rain, Too much area to search. If I’d had longer, or the weather had been better… maybe. But as it was it looks like she got away clean.’_

_‘Damn. Sorry. I tried to stall her, but she didn’t cooperate. Still… that she was here is interesting. Same area of city as the last one, and they responded to that pretty fast. Lends credence to our theory.’_

_‘Can you narrow down the area any further?’_

Quint considered glancing around and calling up a subtle holographic map of the area. _‘Hmm… no, I don’t think so.’_ She glanced at the gem-like insect as it fluttered down to perch on her arm. _‘Maybe divert a few of these guys over this way from sector A4… and move then away from the lower right hand corner of the grid for now. But nothing drastic. Apart from that, I did get some very interesting information out of the talk, and you’re going to want to hear it. Everyone is. Call a meeting, I’m coming up.’_

A secluded spot out of sight, a brief flash of light, and she was gone. The net was cast. It was only a matter of time.

…

Twenty minutes later, Nanoha had dropped the cat food off at the apartment and was off again. It was lucky she had checked her phone on her way back, just in case.

[Nanoha,] the text had read. [Miyuki picked up a ball of ice or glass or something at the hot springs. We think it might be magic. Meet me at the park you met your mother in during my lunch break tomorrow. Love, Dad.]

It had been sent the previous evening. Now, it was nearing one in the afternoon, which meant that her papa would have probably just arrived there. She moved briskly along the pavement, her disguise renewed to give her a different haircut and a slightly different face. Vesta lay curled up in her hood, exhausted from her frantic bout of cleaning but determined to accompany her mistress.

As she walked, Nanoha’s mind was far from still or silent. Doubts and worries churned behind bright blue eyes as she ran over the same thought train in an inescapable loop.

She had told the TSAB what they were doing. It hadn’t been intentional or deliberate, it had just slipped out and the woman had picked up on it – she was scarily informed, too. Nanoha’s resolve to prove her wrong hadn’t faltered, but if Precia-san was really as ill as she had said…

… no. She shook her head away from that line of thought, focusing instead on the more immediate problem. They knew about Alicia. They knew that Precia-san was planning to revive her. They didn’t know _how_ , thankfully, but she had still inadvertently betrayed her allies in one of the worst ways possible. She cringed, already dreading the conversation with Fate she would have to have upon getting back home.

 _‘It won’t be that bad, mistress,’_ offered Vesta. _‘I’ll be there! And I’m sure she’ll see that it was an accident!’_

Nanoha blinked in surprise. Had she been so frantic and caught up in her worries that she had started broadcasting them?

_‘Yes.’_

_‘Alright, alright,’_ she thought back. _‘Cheeky.’_ A purr emerged from her hood that sounded distinctly giggle-like, and she glared back over her shoulder playfully.

 _‘Don’t make me put you on kitchen-cleaning duty permanently, miss,’_ she threatened with a grin.

A mewl of dramatic fear came from behind her. _‘No! I surrender! Please, not the cleaning again!’_

She giggled, her fearful mood lifted somewhat, and rounded the corner into the little square of greenery sequestered among the city blocks. And on the bench, leaning back with his legs crossed over and reading a newspaper, sat…

“Papa!”

The disguise fell away as the newspaper came down and she practically flew across the paved square and into her father’s arms, and for a moment, everything was right with the world.

“Nanoha,” he breathed, and held her close. And in doing so, he caught the slight wince as he jarred her bruised shoulder, and pulled back inquisitively. “Nanoha?” he repeated. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, no, it’s nothing!” she denied hastily. “I just caught a glancing blow during the last Jewel Seed fight… it’s fine, really. Fate-chan and Vesta-chan healed it. It’s a little sore, that’s all.”

He held her gaze for a few seconds longer, before letting it go. The corners of his mouth twitched up in a smile as he reflected on the rest of his statement, and he chuckled softly. “Yes, Vesta. You’ve told us about her, but I must admit it sounds rather hard to believe. Is she that little ball of fur I felt in your hood?”

A quick scramble and a yelp from Nanoha brought Vesta up onto her mistress’s head, blue eyes bright. _‘Yup!’_ she proudly declared, her mouth opening in a little mewl to reveal a baby-pink tongue and tiny, sharp teeth as she did so. _‘It’s me, Vesta the magnificent!’_ She sniffed the offered fingers, and graciously dipped her head to be stroked. _‘You smell nice,’_ she declared firmly. _‘A little like mistress. But bigger and more square. And a boy.’_

Shiro quirked an eyebow at his daughter, who shrugged. She had learnt not to bother questioning the turns of phrase that Vesta and Arf used to describe the things their better-than-human noses could pick up on. Japanese simply didn’t have the vocabulary to accurately represent the concepts they were trying to convey, and she lacked the senses to understand them anyway.

“Well then,” he said as she moved Vesta down to hold her in her arms and tickle her under the chin. “We may not have much time here unobserved, so best to keep things short. It’s in there.” He nodded at a plastic bag on the bench beside him, which appeared to hold a football or something of similar size and shape. Nanoha wasn’t fooled. Even just sitting next to it, she could feel the magic in the thing, subtle, patient and almost malevolent. Peeking inside and noting the dark colour, she shivered. She could also remember what this thing’s lesser cousins had done to the forest.

“It’s magic, yes,” she said. “I’ve seen them before. They’re dangerous if you break them. I’ll take it back to get rid of it.”

He nodded gratefully. “Oh, and there was another thing,” he added. “A woman from the TSAB came round to our house to talk to me. Long purple hair, stocky build. Said her name was Nakajima. She asked me to-”

“Pass a message on that they’d like to talk,” she finished. “I kind of talked to her already, just this morning. It…” she cocked her head, considering. “Well, we agreed to disagree. They think Precia-san can’t do what she’s planning to.” Her eyes flicked down guiltily. “Um. Though I kind of let that slip. She’s trying to save her daughter’s life. She’s brilliant, and she knows what she’s doing. I believe she can succeed.”

Shiro sat there for a moment, watching his daughter. His baby girl, Nanoha. When had she grown up so much? How had it happened so fast? But no, she had always been independent, hadn’t she? This was just a chance for her to show it.

He hugged her again, tightly. “You will come back to us, won’t you?” he murmured. “You won’t disappear or get hurt? I worry about you, sweetheart. So much. All of us do.”

Slender arms wrapped around his neck, and squeezed back. “I’ll be fine, papa. The TSAB don’t want to hurt me, and Precia-san has everything she needs anyway. All we have to do is sit tight and wait until she’s done, then go and lay low with her and Alicia for a month or so. The TSAB will leave eventually, and Precia-san says that if nothing more comes of it and I don’t do anything else to challenge them, they probably won’t bother coming back after me if I seem to be living quietly here.” She frowned, and sighed gustily. “I guess I’d have to retake this school year, though. Or do catch-up work.”

The childish complaint made Shiro chuckle, its innocent nature soothing some of his fears. Ruffling her hair, he smiled at her. “Alright,” he said. “As to your slip in letting them know what you’re after… well, I’d tell your friend as straightforwardly as possible, and apologise profusely. If she’s a smart girl, she should acknowledge that you didn’t mean to, and forgive you.”

A little of the tension faded from her, and she smiled again. “I will.” Throwing her arms around his neck, she gave him another hug, squealing happily as he picked her up and spun her around a couple of times as he had when she was little. “Love you, papa.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. So do Momoko, Kyouya and Miyuki.” He glanced at his watch. “Alright, you had better get going, just in case.” He bent down to kiss her firmly on the forehead, then stared seriously into her eyes. “Be safe, alright?”

“I promise!”

The plastic bag swinging from her wrist and Vesta cradled in one arm, she trotted off, pausing to wave at him at the edge of the park. He caught, very subtly, the shift in her features as she ducked past a bush – mostly the shift in her hair colour to a much darker brown. A disguise spell? Interesting, he mused, watching her and waving back until she was out of sight. As she passed out of sight into the crowds, he sighed, folded his newspaper under and arm, and set off back to work.

Back in the direction his daughter had gone, a small form flitted after the running girl. All four wings pushed themselves in a blur to keep pace with her as she swiftly ate up the street, broadcasting what it saw back to its mistress. The instructions that came back were simple. Follow her, continue broadcasting, record everything it saw and heard.

The first, however, encountered a slight hitch as she ducked into a secluded spot between a couple of buildings and transformed. The Barrier Jacket appeared in a wash of pink light that skittered over her, and the dragonfly-summon lunged in a last-ditch attempt to grab hold of her clothing so as not to be left behind.

It wasn’t fast enough. Ascending like a rocket until she was a mere speck in the clouds, she circled for a moment and then took off on a gently curving trajectory. The dragonfly hovered momentarily, unable to follow the much faster mage. It wasn’t annoyed at its failure – there was no room for emotion in its tiny mind – and it merely waited for new instructions passively. After a moment, they came. Wings fluttered into life again, and it darted off to search the area the TSAB had concluded the girls were likely to be staying in, one of its many siblings having already replaced its role in tailing Shiro Takamachi.

Slowly but surely, the net began to close.

…

The lift doors pinged open, and Nanoha stepped out. Opening the penthouse door, she called out. “Fate-chan! Arf-chan! I’m back!”

The little grey form wrapped around her neck stirred slightly, shifting in her sleep. Nanoha rolled her eyes fondly and prodded her familiar, sending her a wake-up thought.

_‘Hey, come on. Stop dozing all the time, lazybug.’_

The kitten wrinkled her nose, offended. _‘Hey!’_ she defended herself sleepily, _‘I’m still recovering from the crazy metal lady hitting me! Just because she’s apparently nice doesn’t mean she doesn’t hit hard!’_ Nanoha winced slightly, wondering if it had been a bad idea to share the details of what she had talked to Quint about with her familiar. Well, what was done was done, and at least Vesta hadn’t been too angry about it, instead accepting it as her mistress’s way. She nuzzled Nanoha’s ear as if to confirm her loyalty, before continuing. _‘So that means I need lots of food, and rest, and a warm lap to lie on, and to be petted a lot!’_ She paused, considering. _‘And maybe some string. For if I get bored.’_

Nanoha rolled her eyes, a grin spreading on her face at Vesta’s silliness. _‘I might have believed that if you’d stopped at the first two,’_ she thought, amused. _‘But I’m not buying that you need to be petted to get better.’_

 _‘Not just me!’_ denied Vesta, wriggling around to stand on Nanoha’s good shoulder. She arched her back, stretching, and Nanoha winced slightly as she dug her claws in to keep her balanced. Her jaws gaped wide for a moment in a feline yawn, and she continued. _‘You need it too, mistress! You got hurt as well, after all. We can get twice as much cat-food, and you can sleep on Fate's lap and have her stroke you!’_

“Who am I going to be stroking?” Nanoha and Vesta both squeaked as Fate spoke up from the doorway of the main living room, the latter jumping slightly and falling off Nanoha’s shoulder.

_‘Ow!’_

She looked up at her mistress, who was standing frozen, and wrinkled her nose. She could see that Nanoha was trying to work out how to start, but every time she opened her mouth it closed again wordlessly. Eyes flicking across to Fate, who had crossed the room and was shifting some of the books she had left on the couch back to their proper places, she butted against Nanoha’s ankle.

 _‘There’s no better time than this, mistress,’_ she prompted. _‘She has to know. If you don’t tell her, I will.’_

That did it. “Ah, Fate-chan,” Nanoha fumbled out. “Um… I… had something I wanted to tell you. Needed to tell you, actually, and… you’re going to be mad at me and I’m really sorry about it but…” She trailed off, licking her lips nervously. “Um…” Fate had turned and was staring at her levelly, slight apprehension visible on her face, waiting for her to explain. Butterflies swirled in Nanoha’s stomach and she felt herself tremble slightly. The warm presence of Vesta rubbing up against her ankle was a soothing gesture, but not nearly enough of one.

“They know,” she blurted, desperate to get it out and over with. “The TSAB know what- about Alicia-chan. I tried to talk to the woman from yesterday to say that we were doing something good and to please let her try and I promise I wasn’t going to give her any specifics but she worked it out anyway and I didn’t manage to convince her and…” tears pricked at her eyes as she wrung her hands together, “I’m _really_ sorry, I was just trying to get them to let us try.” She hung her head, waiting for Fate to respond, afraid to look at her.

There was a silence of several moments as Fate parsed her babbling and ruthlessly clamped down on her instinctive reaction. The blonde girl closed her eyes and leaned against the doorframe for a moment, taking a deep breath to retain control of her temper.

“I… see,” she breathed, eventually. Another breath, considering the implications, brought her hand up to massage her forehead. “Can I ask what in the _world_ made you think that talking to the TSAB was a good idea?” she snapped, glaring at Nanoha.

Eyes still firmly fixed on Vesta, who was curled around her feet, Nanoha’s shoulders slumped slightly. “… I talked to you,” she replied in a small voice. “I just thought… that maybe…”

“… _argh_.” Fate let out a frustrated sound, dropping her face into her hands. “Look, I can understand the feeling behind it, but it wasn’t a good idea. And now you’ve given them information… at least tell me they don’t know where the Garden is or how Mother is intending to revive Alicia.”

Nanoha shook her head mutely; her gaze still riveted to the floor.

“Fine, then…” Fate sighed tiredly. “Just… stay out of my way for the rest of the evening. Until I’ve had a chance to cool down. I need to work out how to deal with this. When was it, anyway, when did it happen?”

“Just after the Jewel Seed. She stayed behind, and I talked to her with telepathy. I didn’t let her see me… um…” Nanoha glanced up for the first time since blurting out her mistake, obviously scared. “Are you going to tell Precia-san?” she whispered fearfully.

Fate paused for a few seconds, considering it. “… no,” she eventually decided. “Now more than ever, we can’t afford giving away the location of the Garden. Mother has all the Jewel Seeds she needs, we’ll just have to keep the TSAB focused on us and the remaining ones until she can go ahead with the spell. If it works, it won’t have mattered.” She noted the visible release of tension from Nanoha’s frame, and scowled. “I’m still angry at you, though. It was reckless and silly, talking to them. I suppose you couldn’t have known that,” her lips twitched, “since you did talk to me, and that worked out. But it was still dumb.”

That got a watery, apologetic smile in return, and Nanoha nodded fervently. “I promise I’ll make it up to you!” she swore. “We’ll show them they’re wrong, and save Alicia, and everything will be okay! I promise! No matter what!”

Fate pursed her lips, feeling considerably less optimistic about this new development. But she remained silent, and Nanoha seemed to gather from her expression that it was time to give her some space and let her cool down somewhat. Moving to go, she abruptly remembered the bag she held and offered it forward. “Uh… oh, this is one of the spheres from the ice Seed at the hot springs,” she explained. “Miyuki picked it up there, and it’s dangerous for them to have, so I picked it up for Precia-san to look at.” Setting it down on the couch, she beat a hasty retreat as Fate moved over to investigate it. The blonde would, she was fairly sure, stay mad at her at least until the following afternoon, if not longer. Until then, it was safest to stay out of her way.

…

An hour after the schools released their occupants the following day, the darkening skies found two nine-year olds converging on one another in front of a neon-lit electronics store. Their panting and flushed faces were a consequence of the activity they had been occupied in, scouting out as much ground and as many people as they could in as short a period of time.

“Okay, anything?” asked the purple-haired girl, shifting her satchel onto her other shoulder and massaging the sore muscle where the weight had been hanging.

Arisa shook her head, falling into step beside Suzuka as they met up from separate routes scouring the city blocks around where they had been yesterday. “No. But she’s definitely around here somewhere, she got here too fast to have been anywhere but close by.”

Suzuka chewed on her lip, considering it. “They might have been in the area for something else, it’s not sure that they live here. And they might not be on the streets.”

“Maybe not today,” retorted Arisa, “but if we keep looking, we’ve got to run into them eventually.”

Abruptly, she stopped. Not because she wanted to, especially, but rather because Suzuka had suddenly grabbed hold of her arm in an almost painful grip. “Look!” she hissed, “speak of the devil!”

Arisa looked. Arisa frowned. “Uh, Suzuka?” she said, considering the black-haired girl walking along the pavement on the other side of the street. “That’s… not Nanoha. Or the Fate girl. Or the orange woman.”

“No, but look at who she’s carrying!” Suzuka whispered, pulling Arisa after the girl, who was proceeding down the street at a brisk stroll. “It’s Vesta!”

Arisa’s eyebrows rose and she peered at the small bundle of grey fur that was draped over the girl’s shoulders like an oddly feline scarf. It was definitely a grey kitten, that was for sure. Whether it was that _specific_ grey kitten out of several thousand in the city was dubious, and her expression rather clearly said so. Suzuka scowled at her.

“Don’t look so disbelieving!” she scolded. “I know my cats, and I’m telling you, that’s Vesta! Weren’t you the one who said we had to run into her eventually? She’s probably using magic to disguise herself!”

The blonde girl considered this, switching her gaze from Suzuka to the black-haired girl. Slowly, her eyes lit up, and a grin grew on her face as she nodded. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right! It has to be her!” She made to charge off towards their disguised friend, but Suzuka’s grip on her arm stopped her.

“Wait! Don’t go after her just yet. Find out where she’s staying first.”

She didn’t seem in too much of a hurry. Indeed, she was almost dragging her feet as she trudged through the crowds, a plastic bag with some groceries in it dangling from her wrist. But eventually she came to a high-class hotel, an expensive-looking place with a glass and metal edifice, which stretched up at least twenty floors into the sky. The doorman nodded to her as she went in, and she offered him a slight smile as she slipped past and made for the lifts.

Arisa and Suzuka remained on the pavement, stymied. They weren’t getting past the doorman, that was for sure. But where they were unable to follow the girl in, others were not.

The brightly coloured dragonfly lifted off from the rooftop it had been observing them from, and buzzed its way over to the first of the many windows on the building. Surveying the occupants and finding them invalid matches to its targets, it moved onto the next. And the next. And the next.

There were a lot of windows on the skyscraper. But it was only a matter of time, now. Dragonflies from all over the city began to converge on the tower, intent on narrowing down the location of the two mages within to the very room.

The net had closed.

…

Megane set a brisk pace for a woman who was eight months pregnant, Quint mused as she accompanied her teammate towards the bridge. They were running late, as Megane had been held up in the medical bay having a check-up run, and she took the lead with a determined stride to make up the lost time.

“We have their location,” she confirmed as Zest moved up to flank them. “A penthouse suite in an expensive hotel in the area we had suspected they were in. We can thank her friends for that, incidentally – it seems as though she’s been using minor illusions to go out and about. They recognised her familiar as she passed them, and followed her back to her residence.”

“Finally,” he replied. “Alright, we’re going to do this carefully.” He paused as the door hissed open, and continued as they resumed their pace. “We’ll go in at night, when they’re asleep and untransformed. Megane, I want you on-site to set up a barrier as quietly as possible.”

“That might wake them up,” she frowned. Zest nodded.

“I know. But it’ll also trap them inside it if it does. I don’t want them escaping this time, so we’re covering all the angles. The backup team will be covering one angle of escape and I’ll another. Scrya can cover the third, which should be enough no matter which direction they flee in.” He frowned as they passed a couple of crew members heading down towards the engine department. “Hmm. Harlaown will go in with you. Aim to knock out and subdue. Ideally, I want all four of them – hostiles and familiars – to wake up here on the Asura in the brig without any idea of what happened. Then we can talk to them individually and get to the bottom of what’s going on here.”

“And if they wake up?” asked Quint. The metal corridors started to change somewhat as they entered the anterior section of the ship, with more light and colour to the walls than the relatively plain, homogenous grey of the sectors further back. The meeting room they were heading too was two levels down from the bridge, and Zest considered Quint’s question as they ascended a flight of stairs to get to the right floor.

“Knock them out,” he decided after some thought. “We don’t particularly want them hurt, so avoid that if you can. It shouldn’t be too hard. Even if they wake up, they’ll be groggy and may not have their Devices close at hand.” He paused at the entrance to the meeting room, stretching slightly. “Still, we’ll proceed under the assumption that they will on both counts, which is why the barrier goes up first to stop them getting away.”

“I can’t say I’ll be sorry to see the end of this mission,” murmured Megane, and her companions both smiled at her sardonic tone. “Alright then,” she sighed. “I imagine the Admiral will object to my participation in this, so let’s get the argument over with.”

She slid the door open, accepting the mildly admonishing stares as fair rebuke for their lateness, and led the team in to lay out their strategy for the operation.

…

Ten hours later, it was still raining on Earth. A fine, light drizzle fell with just enough force to soak anyone caught in it but not quite enough to be called proper rain. It was dark, the sun having dropped below the horizon hours ago and the moon hidden behind thick banks of cloud.

Despite the lack of light, though, Mei could see clearly enough through the visor that had slotted down over her eyes. Perched on the roof of an office block a few floors below their target, she watched Heidi and Tiida conferring quietly. A few phrases drifted through the cool night air, barely audible from her position.

“… concerned about our positioning… speed will be a problem, especially if… difficult for them to attack at range…”

That was Heidi, voicing trepidations about the plan. She glanced at Mei and Rizu, snapping her gaze hastily back to Tiida as she registered Mei looking back at her. Their squad leader looked worried, but not overly so. He nodded, speaking in a lower tone that didn’t carry as well, but whatever he was saying seemed to reassure Heidi somewhat. She pursed her lips, still looking a little troubled, but nodded back in acceptance.

Personally, Mei didn’t have many reservations of her own. She understood Heidi’s fears, but the older girl had a pronounced tendency to plan for the worst, just in case. Mei preferred to take life as it came and to look on the bright side of things. And hey, from here she could see Scrya and Captain Grangaitz in their respective positions. Investigator Alpine was around somewhere as well, near the ferret-boy. She was concealed, though, and under strict orders not to involve herself in the fight in any way other than to set up the dimensional barrier as subtly as possible.

Across from her position, Yuuno hovered level with the penthouse that Nanoha was sleeping in. He too had reservations about the operation, though his weren’t based on any specific details. Rather, he remembered the surprises that Nanoha had already pulled out, and remained wary of her managing it again. Guilt stirred within him, along with a profound sadness that the situation had come to this. But it was their best and only chance to put an end to this, and so he readied himself for a fight, hoping against hope that his fears were in vain. Below him, a shadow lurked on a rooftop amongst deeper shadows, guarded by a chitinous insectoid form.

Zest took the third point of the triangle surrounding the penthouse. Unlike the others, he stood high above the glass and metal structure on a circle of magic, hidden by darkness and cloud. The light rain pattered against his coat and drenched his face and hair, but the fields of his barrier jacket kept him otherwise warm and dry. He savoured the refreshing chill of the evening breezes and kept a steady eye on the other mages under his command, waiting to give the order to start.

 _‘Megane,’_ he sent. _‘Any movement inside?’_

 _‘I don’t have a visual on either of the girls,’_ she replied. _‘I can’t get any bugs into the place without tripping alarms, so I’m limited to what I can see through the windows that don’t have curtains drawn. The wards are surprisingly well done – someone is definitely helping them, because I really can’t see a nine-year old doing work this complex and nuanced. We’ll trip them when we go in, you know. Even if the barrier going up doesn’t trigger them, forced ingress will.’_ She paused, her mind flickering through the dozens of dragonfly-summons perched on the walls and windowsills of the penthouse suite. _‘There aren’t any lights on, though. And I’m not picking up any significant noise or movement inside. If the wards are tied into just one of them, then we’ll be dealing with a groggy half-awake child. Even if they’re set to trigger an alarm, it’ll take them a few dozen seconds to wake up properly.’_

A gap opened in the clouds for a moment, and the pale light of the moon shone down on the building, illuminating it in eerie silver hues. Zest paused, considering the merits of waiting another hour or so to make sure. But doing so wouldn’t more than fractionally lower the chances of the girls being awake, and the precautions he’d taken against that eventuality wouldn’t get any better in that time. In fact, given that Scrya and the backup team were completely untrained and relatively inexperienced respectively, the line of containment around the building would probably get worse if he forced them to wait another hour.

Frowning, Zest gritted his teeth. He didn’t like working with such an inexperienced group, and he didn’t like the feel he was getting about this particular operation. But despite his uneasiness, he had no intention of letting them try to cause any more havoc, and he certainly wasn’t going to let them keep trying to capture the Jewel Seeds for any longer than he had to, regardless of their chances of doing so successfully.

Looking over at the two figures hovering ready to enter the apartment – one armoured and familiar, the other shorter and wielding a staff – he sighed and raised his arm in a ‘ready’ signal.

 _‘Megane,’_ he prompted silently.

_‘Whenever you’re ready, sir.’_

Zest flicked his eyes one last time over the silent tableau, and dropped his arm.

 _‘Go,’_ he broadcast, and watched as the barrier rose.

…

A soft knock came at the door, and Fate looked up from her book. She was sitting up in bed, her pillows repurposed into a makeshift support for her back and Arf lying draped over her ankles in her puppy form. The white ball of light above her shoulder shed a gentle radiance that illuminated the pages, but which barely reached the other side of the room.

She frowned at the door as the knock came again. “Come in, Nanoha,” she said with a hint of terseness, and the door slid open to reveal the brunette. She was wearing a white nightgown, Raising Heart hung on its pendant around her neck and she cradled Vesta in her arms. She looked miserable.

“I couldn’t get to sleep,” she croaked. “Do you mind if I sit in here for a bit?”

Taking in the visible state of distress her friend was in, Fate’s expression softened slightly. She marked her place in the book and set it to one side, leaning forward. “No, come in. What’s wrong?”

Nanoha took a shaky breath and swallowed, tongue darting out to lick dry lips. “I talked to the TSAB woman yesterday…” she began, and paused as a flicker of disapproval ran over Fate’s face at the reminder of her fumble. When she didn’t continue, Fate nodded shortly.

“Yes, you said,” she prompted. “Did you tell her something else that you haven’t mentioned?”

Nanoha’s gaze dropped to her feet, and Fate realised the girl was actually shaking slightly. Frown changing entirely to one of concern, she swept the covers to one side and got out of bed, crossing the short distance between them and laying her hands on Nanoha’s shoulders. The ball of light followed her, bobbing slightly as it was pulled along by her movement.

“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong? You look…” she narrowed her eyes, carefully examining Nanoha’s face in the low light levels. “… you look terrified. And pale. What did she say to you?”

Nanoha gulped again, and Fate guided her over to the bed, sitting her down and moving Vesta onto the bed beside her. The little cat-familiar nuzzled her mistress’s hand, offering what comfort she could, but a glance at her revealed her to be as confused as Fate was. Whatever this was about, Nanoha hadn’t shared it with her yet, either.

A warm body pressed itself against Nanoha’s other side as Arf lent her own sympathies, and she looked up at Fate pleadingly, almost frantic with terror and desperate to have her fears put to rest.

“She said they’d t-take my magic away,” she whispered hoarsely. “If… if we got caught. That if I kept t-trying to help Alica, they’d lock up all my magic so I couldn’t use any ever again and make me s-stay here on Earth for my whole life and…” her breathing sped up, panic starting to set in, “and what about Vesta?” She hugged the kitten close. “Would… what would happen to her if I had my magic locked? Would they lock hers as well? And Raising Heart, would they take her away too? And… and what would they do to you, if they’d lock me up and keep me from ever leaving here? Or Alicia-chan! Or…”

She broke off, tears glimmering in her eyes and her hands shaking hard now, her breathing ragged. It took a lot to scare Nanoha Takamachi, but the thought of having the wonderful, beautiful, amazing world that was only just beginning to open up to her get closed off forever and denied to her… that managed it. Now that she had experienced what it was like to fly, now that she had cuddled her familiar and been cuddled back in return, now that she had used Raising Heart to protect people from monsters and safeguard her friends, she couldn’t imagine going back to her old life. She might miss her mother and father and siblings terribly, but the thought of having her magic stripped from her, along with her new friends and all the myriad worlds out there… that hurt almost as much. And unlike her self-imposed exile, this wouldn’t be a month or waiting. No, this would be permanent. It would last for the rest of her life.

Fate was honestly unsure of how to react to this. She sat down next to Nanoha, nudging Arf out of the way and putting a gentle arm around her shoulders. But what was she supposed to say? She couldn’t reassure her that it wouldn’t happen – if they were caught, it would. And from the strength of the forces thrown against them in the last battle, she couldn’t guarantee that they were sure to remain free.

Luckily, Arf chose that moment to intercede, clambering over Vesta’s head to grab at Nanoha’s sleeve with her teeth and tug at it. _‘That’s easy to solve!’_ she encouraged. _‘All we have to do is not get caught!’_

The childish optimism cracked the bleak mood and drew a wobbly smile from Nanoha. “I guess that’s one way…” she agreed. “I’m just… scared.” She hugged herself, hands rubbing her upper arms to get rid of the goosebumps there. “They nearly got us last time, and… I just don’t feel safe anymore. You know? At first it was like a story, and I was the heroine and helping people and saving a little girl’s life. But now… everything’s complicated, and the TSAB are meant to be good but they’re doing bad things, and we’re hiding and scared and…” she sniffed. “It’s nothing like it is in the stories.”

Fate was about to answer, when something pulsed nearby as if to lend credence to her words. It was masterfully done. Faint, so very faintly that they almost missed the magic itself. But the effects were unmistakable as colours dimmed to greyscale, the soft patter of the rain outside ceased, and a strange purple light shone from the darkened skies overhead.

A barrier had gone up around their home.

…

Fate’s head jerked in the direction the pulse had originated from. She stared for a second before her gaze tracked across to look at Nanoha, her face ashen.

“They’re here,” she whispered in horror. “They’ve found us.”

For a brief second, all four of the room’s occupants froze, taking in the implications of that. Then they exploded into motion. Nanoha and Fate shot off the bed, gold and pink light engulfing them as they transformed. The bed itself groaned and collapsed, its legs giving out as the kitten and puppy on it shone white and grew into their war forms, their combined mass totally almost half a tonne. Vesta rippled and vanished almost immediately, and two Photon Lancers appeared around Arf’s head, circling and waiting to fire.

Barely had they transformed when the warded alarms triggered, a shriek of protest as someone forced their way into the apartment. From the direction the sounds were coming from, they had entered from the stairwell. Fate glanced at Nanoha, reading the look of pale fear on her face, and tried to look encouraging. She was fairly sure it didn’t work very well, but it was the thought that counted.

“Ready?” she asked. She didn’t wait for a response. The window in this room was too small to leave through, and charging up enough power to simply break clean through the wall would take too long. The main living room had the enormous wall-window, and was only a short stretch of corridor away and through the kitchen. Better yet, it was in the opposite direction to the stairwell the alarms were coming from. She didn’t try to explain in words, though, instead merely throwing a telepathic image of the huge window at the others and gesturing for them to follow her.

“Let’s go!” she snapped, and kicked the door open. Bardiche came down to point down the corridor in the direction of the sound as Nanoha and the familiars bundled out of the room and hastened towards the kitchen. She couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything…

“This is the TSAB!” The voice was real, but still seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. From the sound of it, it was the woman again. “You are surrounded! Come out without your weapons, and you will not be harmed!”

Fate didn’t bother to reply, instead turning to follow her friends. Distantly, from behind her, she thought she heard a mutter of “fine then, be that way”.

Then the wall exploded.

 _‘Fate-chan!’_ screamed Arf as the two figures shot towards her mistress out of the dust. Fate retaliated with blinding speed, firing off half a dozen Photon Lancers at them even as Arf’s own shot past her. The Enforcer was quick enough to get a shield up, though, and the shots flared against the dark blue circle like dying stars. Then the woman vaulted _over_ him, her rollerblades sending up twin rows of sparks from the floor as four nasty-looking shooting spells swerved around her and closed in on Fate.

The blonde girl was faster, though. She shot down the corridor towards the door to the kitchen, and past the waiting wolf-familiar. Who, as her mistress passed, drew a deep breath and howled fury at the oncoming TSAB agents. An orange barrier that filled the entire corridor billowed out from her, followed by another and then another, each separated by a few scant inches. Glowing so brightly as to be almost opaque, they rammed down the corridor towards the charging mages.

The metal-clad woman didn’t bother to shield herself from the ramming attack. Indeed, she didn’t even bother to engage it. Swerving on a pinpoint, she turned through ninety degrees and crashed into the wall of the corridor without slowing. A Quint-sized hole resulted, taking her neatly out of the barrier’s path and out of sight. The Enforcer, behind her, threw up a barrier of his own and held his ground as Arf’s attack smashed into it. The first layer of the familiar’s attack shattered like glass as it hit the dome, and the second splintered and broke after a few seconds of grinding struggle. But in doing so, it cracked the opposing barrier, and the third and last layer picked him up and hurled him down the corridor like a battering ram before fading. He landed feet-first on the far wall, knees bending to absorb the impact before pushing off again and hurtling into pursuit. But Arf had delayed him enough to buy a few precious seconds, and she fled after the others back into and through the kitchen as he advanced.

She got three quarters of the way to the living room when the armoured mage came through the opposite wall. As with the first one, she didn’t appear to slow down or hesitate in the manner that a normal person would before running headlong into a solid surface. Her fist carved through the plaster and tiling of the kitchen wall above the oven as if it was polystyrene as she shoulder-charged through it. The force of her charge caught up the heavy cooker as if it weighed no more than a cushion and threw it across the room, crumpled from the impact with her knee.

Two dozen shooting spells in pink, yellow, orange and red smashed into the barrier she threw up before the debris even hit the ground. Even this much force didn’t seem to deter her, despite seven of them making it through the barrier and striking her directly. It did force her backwards, though, and Fate took advantage of the brief pause to fling higher-level spell at her, a bind hidden in a shooting spell. Arf capitalised on her opening, wrapping orange chains around the woman’s arms and chest, pulling her to the floor.

It was no use. [Entkettungsknöchel!] her Device barked, and she wrenched herself free with a convulsive jerk that shattered the chains and rings that held her still. Even as she did so, the Enforcer burst through the door, preceded by a dozen shooting spells that targeted Fate and Nanoha. The latter shrieked as, instead of breaking against the shield she conjured against them, the shots instead burst into a flurry of wires that wrapped around the pink circle and tried to snare her. Only a very quick retreat saved her from being caught, and she angrily replied with three shots in a triangular formation. Their trajectory seemed to be aimed to miss him, but the barrier that glimmered into being between them belied that impression, an offence-defence designed to block his shots and barrel into him again.

It didn’t work, though. He slipped away like a bird on the wing, darting up to the ceiling to avoid it and coming down on her again. His charge was terminated abruptly as he threw himself backwards to avoid a glowing scythe slash, and Nanoha flashed Fate a quick smile as she turned to the metal-clad woman who was smashing through Arf’s barriers one by one.

Then two sounds cut through the noise in swift succession. One was the shattering of the window as a very large, invisible cat-familiar crashed into it at high speed at the same time as half a dozen shooting spells targeted its edges, clearing a path out of the room for her comrades to escape.

The other was a horrifyingly familiar shriek, like metal on glass.

All heads turned towards the ice sphere, which was sporting a large, discoloured crack down one side. Further splintering lines were spreading out from it across the smooth surface. Questions such as whose spell had hit it and when were disregarded as all of those who had seen the effects of its younger siblings shot towards the broken open window, and all those who hadn’t followed suit on the sound logic that whatever was happening to the strange thing that was glowing the same colour as a Jewel Seed, it was unlikely to be good. In two groups they shot out and away from the building, their battle put temporarily on hold as they strained to get as far away as possible.

And behind them, light blossomed. Or rather, it didn’t blossom. It wasn’t light as such, no radiance of any source, natural or artificial, had ever looked like this. Nor was it darkness or a mere absence of light, or even something that consumed it. No, this was an un-light, a strange not-colour that mimicked the swirling madness in the depths of Imaginary Space as reality tore. The sphere broke, and the rent in the world flowed out in great swirls and billows of ruptured space that swallowed glass and steel as easily as air. The couch upon which Nanoha had whiled away lazy hours, the bed that she had grown used to over the past few weeks, the kitchen with its carefully labelled cupboards and the office with its boards and charts and printouts… all vanished, swallowed by the ravenous pit that plunged through the weakened skin of the barrier into Dimensional Space, and even deeper from there into Imaginary Space, from which nothing returned once lost. The fractal flower, bloomed and built out from itself in a three-dimensional pattern that engulfed the top three storeys of the tower block, shining with the eye-watering hues of a dimensional skein where distance and location were meaningless concepts and magic was ripped apart into its constituent motes as soon as it was cast.

Slowly, the terrible radiance began to contract. But not fade. No, it folded in on itself, but the light only grew brighter. It hurt to look at, and not just because of the intensity. The whirling patterns caused stinging eyes and headaches to form in those that stared too hard at the shifting mass of unnameable colours. It reached the size of a large car, and seemed to stop for a moment. Nothing was left of the uppermost three floors of the skyscraper – they had been obliterated, the cut walls as smooth as glass, exposing the fourth-highest floor open to the sky.

And then it began to expand again. Faster. The rent had ceased the explosive growth that the breaking of the orb had fuelled, and the ambient pressure of the barrier had forced it most of the way closed again. But now what was left had stabilised, and the tear began to spread outward. Cursing fluently, the two adult mages cut off their pursuit and turned to the opening rift as a third figure burst from concealment nearby to aid them. Bit by bit, a web of magic began to appear around the blossom, squashing it back down and sealing it closed again.

Nanoha and Fate were entirely willing to use this distraction to turn their attention towards escaping.

 _‘We need to break the barrier!’_ Fate yelled. _‘Two bombardment spells in the same place should do it! We just have to charge up fast enough that they don’t catch us first!’_

Nanoha didn’t reply, but instead swerved over towards the approaching Yuuno, arcing higher into the sky towards the roof of the barrier as she did so. Red shots trailed her as she went, and the redheaded pistol-user threw himself into pursuit. Fate noted the glow of mana already starting to build around Nanoha’s form, and judged her capable of holding the two off. She herself began to gather her own magic, and set a course for the Enforcer. He evaded, but she was faster, and she bore down on him with a flurry of blows that sent sparks flying from the barrier he brought up. Arf harried at his other side, snapping and snarling. His barriers held, but she was still forcing him back, and the lovely thing about melee combat was that it didn’t use up the power she was building in preparation for her bombardment spell.

The boy was canny, though. His retreat wasn’t as desperate or genuine as it looked. Fate found this out the hard way as a sharp yank to her ankle alerted her to a bind there. Glancing down, her eyes widened. It was purple. Not his work, but that of one of the backup team. He had been leading her, luring her down from the height she had been working at to get her close enough for them to engage!

 _‘Arf! Break me free!’_ She shot a spray of shooting spells at him as Arf focused on the ring around her ankle, enough that he was forced to evade rather than block. Turning to find the source of the bind as it broke, she instead met…

… met insanity that she would have expected from Nanoha. The green-haired girl was _charging_ at her, weapon drawn back, leaping from… were those barriers? They were! She was using barriers as stepping stones more than fourteen storeys above the ground, blazing with the light of what appeared to be a Boost spell. A volley of violet shooting spells accompanied her, limiting her space to dodge to. The sword came down, and she layered a shield over a barrier as Arf sent forth ensnaring chains and sent it rushing forwards to knock both spells and girl out of the air. Then she could dart forwards, catch the girl, fling her onto a rooftop or something and…

… watch, as a barrier appeared under the girl’s foot at the apex of her leap, and she somersaulted clean _over_ Fate’s improvised ram, as well as the chains that sought to catch her. Had she the time, Fate would have gaped at the feat of acrobatics. Instead, she brought her scythe up in what would have been a block if the energy blade of the sword hadn’t _flickered_ out of existence at exactly the right time to avoid a clash with her scythe before flickering on again. The success of the manoeuvre was rather diminished by the way that an orange chain caught the girl around the waist and yanked her into the path of Fate’s scythe in retaliation as a barrier went up to stop the blow.

But it had been raised a little too late. Even through Arf’s barrier, the strike hurt. Fate felt a blunt pain smash into her left arm on the inside of the elbow, hissing through her teeth as the force reverberated through her bones. The shaft of Bardiche caught the girl in the side of the head in retaliation, and she heard the beginning of a panicked swear-word as the swordswoman plummeted downwards, having been knocked round to fall headfirst. Magic glinted around her again, turquoise light slowing her fall and slowing her tumbling. Nevertheless, the Enforcer glared at Fate for a brief second in frustration. He knew that it would take longer to beat her than it would for the girl to hit the ground. Choosing his teammate, he darted down to catch her, and Fate rose into the sky. Taking the offence had earned her a few bruises, but it had held the TSAB forces off long enough for her to gather the needed power.

 _‘Nanoha,’_ she sent as she flew towards the other girl at speed. _‘I’m ready. Are you?’_

 _‘Just about… okay, done!’_ She approached alongside Vesta, looking a little the worse for wear. Her Barrier Jacket was singed in several places and she was missing a sleeve. But she was smiling, and there seemed to be no sign of her opponents, so Fate took the results of her fight as being positive.

 _‘Alright then,’_ she prompted, not wasting any time. _‘Fire!’_

The ring-barrels extended from their Devices, each longer than the girls were tall. Their enemies had recovered and were closing on them, but there was time enough for this. The energy built, the runes glowed, and the air within each barrel glowed as it was charged with mana in preparation for the firing. And then…

[Divine Buster]

[Thunder Smasher]

Two beams, one of cherry-blossom pink and one of dazzling gold, burst out of the barrels they had been contained in and crashed into the wall of the barrier. Drill-like, they raged against the edge of the sealed space, battering at the boundary that kept the battlefield separate from the real world. Behind them, the last unearthly radiance of the rift died away, leaving only a scar on the local Dimensional Space overlay, and as it faded it was replaced by the warm colours of reality, bleeding through the cracks that spread from the point at which the roaring power of the twin beams was concentrated. Batter, beaten, strained beyond its limit by the focused energies; the edge of the barrier fractured, and then broke entirely.

Rain pattered down once more. Fate glanced back, and saw the rift sealed and the adult mages making for her. “Move!” she screamed, grabbing Arf as she shifted down to a puppy and latching an arm around Nanoha’s waist as Vesta dived into the girl’s hood in kitten form. Pulling on all her speed, she shot away, as fast as she could ever remember going.

But this time, her opponents weren’t deafened, tired or temporarily blinded. Two of the adult figures drew up short, recognising their speed as lesser than hers.

Zest altered his grip on the spear he held. Magic flared at his feet and the spearhead as he held it in front of him, focusing on the dots receding into the distance.

And in a brown streak of blurred movement, he pursued them.

…

One of the first things that Linith had discovered, upon starting to train the young clone of her mistress’s daughter, was that Fate could move very, very fast when she put her mind to it. Shockingly so, in fact, to the extent that she was outpacing the familiar in terms of speed before the end of her first week of training. And from that point onwards, she only sped up.

Displaying this natural aptitude to Precia had garnered an actual look of surprise, and measured but genuine praise for the girl. It appeared, the great mage had told them both, that Fate would probably be amongst the fastest mages on record in terms of speed, once she grew into her prime. It had even transferred over to Arf to some extent, leaving the wolf-familiar far quicker than anyone could reasonably expect from something of her size and mass.

Now, Fate put all of that speed to use as she soared through rain-drenched skies, wreathed in golden light and fleeing the powerhouse that chased her.

They had been attacked in their home. In their sanctuary, at night, when by all rights they should have been asleep. The message was clear. From now on, nowhere was safe, nowhere was sacred. Any consideration of secrecy or security was null and void, and the only thing that mattered now was escape.

She stooped, holding tightly onto Nanoha with both hands, hugging her close and securing Arf between them. The wind whistled shrilly around them, snatching at her ponytails in the slipstream as she plummeted towards the streets below.

And barely ten metres from the ground, she pulled up, downwards momentum shifting into horizontal. Like a miniature jet plane, she shot along the lamp-lit road fast enough that a wall of wind followed her, pulled along by the speed of her passage. The man followed, sweeping low, his dark orange magic forming a blazing delta-wing around him that cut through the air like a knife, lowering the drag on his body and speeding his passage.

But Fate had one major advantage. Even burdened by a passenger, she knew from her previous fight with him that the man’s speed was primarily in straight-line bursts. She could corner better. She used that to her advantage ruthlessly, whipping sideways to the tune of screams from Nanoha and cutting down a side-road, forcing him to lose precious fractions of a second slowing for the turn. She repeated the manoeuvre, darting left down another side road and resuming her previous course. If she could just keep him from closing the distance for long enough, she could make it to…

 _‘Fate-chan! He’s going back up into the sky!’_ Nanoha gasped out between breaths. Her position cradled in Fate’s arms allowed her to look back over her shoulder, and she sent a brief image of the man in the skies above them, having given up on chasing her through the city and gained altitude again. He was waiting up there, watching her from on high and staying there until she either stopped moving or left the relative safety of the urban sprawl.

Which was just what she wanted.

She swerved onto another street, this one a main road, planning out her route and marking out where the risks were as she did so. There were pedestrians on this one, in far greater numbers than on the previous ones. Swerving right to avoid an oncoming truck, she allowed herself to gain a little altitude, ignoring the Doppler-shifted screams and yells from those pointing at the yellow comet that hurtled down the road. The more sensible ones crouched down or huddled into alcoves, and were spared the experience of being picked up and bowled over by the shockwave she was trailing.

_‘Dodge!’_

She wasn’t sure who screamed it. It might even have been more than one person. Regardless, she reacted instantly to the yell, barrel-rolling to one side just in time to avoid a deep orange javelin that deformed as it hit a rubbish bin below her, spreading out to smash into and wrap around it in a skintight barrier rather than a concentrated point. From the way the plastic bin crumped, it was also squeezing rather hard. Fate gulped as she imagined the effect the spell would have on her, leaving her tightly wrapped up and unable to move or cast.

 _‘Another two! Go right and forwards!’_ Obeying wordlessly, Fate poured on the speed and flipped right, turning over as she did to get a few upwards at the spears lancing in. They missed by several metres, slamming into the tarmac and dissolving as they found nothing to wrap around. Fate flipped over again to better see where she was going, and frowned. If he had abandoned playing the waiting game in favour of firing, that probably meant he had worked out where she was going.

Well, that just meant that there was no point in being subtle about it anymore.

She rose from the street explosively, climbing three storeys in seconds to hurdle two rows of houses before dropping back below the level of the rooftops. Another sharp ninety degree turn, and it was a straight line to her goal, the place she had been aiming for since starting.

The forest.

 _‘He’s diving!’_ Nanoha warned, flashing her a picture of the huge man falling towards them faster than could possibly be natural, accompanied by three more of those javelins, each encircled by a firing ring halfway down its length. Fate wasn’t surprised at the tactic, though the characteristic Mid-style ring for what had seemed like a pure Belkan user was unusual. He had probably learned that trick specifically for use on fleeing targets like her, she realised. He knew as well as she did that if she got into the trees, he couldn’t keep track of her position from above. Nor would he be able to keep up with her in the tight, dense environment full of obstacles that she could avoid but he would have to smash through or slow down for. Still, there was something else she would have to do if she wanted to lose him.

Gradually, in a controlled release, she lowered the intensity of the yellow aura around her that was parting the air in front of her and reducing the drag on her body. Not only was it glowing, it was also a source of magic that he could track. She would have to reduce it to the bare minimum necessary if she wanted to get away. It faded from a blazing gold to a pastel yellow, and then further still to an almost invisible ripple in the air.

The downside to this, of course, was that her protective sheath was gone. The cruel wind whipped harshly at her face, and her Barrier Jacket was nowhere near enough to stop it from hurting. Her eyes watered, her face swiftly grew red and chapped, but still she kept on as the burning nova of power behind her descended, his gravity-aided dive and the distance he had gained by travelling in a straight line bringing him close enough almost to snap at her metal-shod feet.

And then, like a fish escaping a shark by diving into the densely woven channels of a reef, Fate plunged into the forest treeline.

_Left left right duck branch branch limb trunk rise right roll gap trunk limb branch left duck..._

It was a nightmare.

_… curve round boulder, duck branch swerve trunk, dart through clearing, rise to dodge bush DUCK..._

A javelin flew over her head, missing her by inches as the sound of crashing echoed through the trees behind her. She barely had any attention to spare for it, so consumed was she with the lightning-fast calculations needed to navigate the dense maze of obstacles at high speed.

_… birds startled from their nests, weave through the shrieking flocks and dive, turn on a hairpin to follow a stream, plunge back into the trees again as the juggernaut nears…_

Behind her, she distantly registered the cacophony the man was causing as, instead of navigating the forest, he simply smashed clean through it in a straight line. Even so, it was slowing him down. Slowly but surely, a gap was opening between them.

 _‘Vesta!’_ she gasped, starting to flag from the sustained exertion, _‘Hide us! Signature!’_ Then the trees became denser, and there was no time for thought at all.

_… tree trunk next to a wooden shed, blown to pieces by the wind of her passage, grazing deer on a grassy clearing, dense grove full of thorny trees, swerve left and duck as a javelin nears, veer right away again to flee deeper into the trees…_

Leaves and twigs whipped at her face, back and arms. She was avoiding the worst of the obstacles, but it was impossible to fly through a dense forest at speeds as high as this and avoid everything. Despite the protection of the fields around her, cuts and grazes were beginning to build up on the parts of her exposed to the lacerating punishment. Her breathing came heavy, harshly. But a hand coiled around hers, and a pink sun lent its aid to her efforts. Sakura-coloured light rushed through her, warming and bolstering her exhausted muscles and magic wherever it found them, and she threw what was left into the flight spell even as a cloak of subtlety wove itself around them and dampened their magical signature. There were holes in it, and it was far from perfect, but it was something. Combined with her lessened aura, it might be enough that the spearman couldn’t track her by her signature through the amount he himself was giving off.

Carefully, eyes and ears intent for any sign, sight or sound of her pursuer, Fate slowed her frantic rush through the forest until she was moving at barely more than twice the speed of a fast run, easily slow enough to navigate the obstacles safely and silently. _‘Vesta?’_ she whispered, naked fear compelling her to keep her voice low even in private telepathy, _‘Arf? Have we lost him?’_

Grey ears twitched, swivelling slightly to take in the sounds of the surroundings. An orange nose wormed its way out from between Fate and Nanoha, who belatedly realised that they were still clutching one another tightly in adrenaline-fueled terror. For a long moment, the familiars each put their senses to the task of exploring their surroundings. Then…

 _‘Yes,’_ said Vesta, to twin sighs of relief. _‘I think so. He’s definitely not moving anywhere near us, I’d hear him crashing.’_

 _‘His scent isn’t nearby,’_ confirmed Arf. _‘I think we lost him. Well done, mistress!’_

“For escaping?” Fate murmured, her expression bleak. “I suppose so. We didn’t get caught, for what good that’s worth. But now what? We can’t go back to the apartment.”

An uncomfortable silence fell as this sank in. Fate broke it, with the question that hung heavy on all their minds.

“Where do we go now?”

…

They headed back to the city. Where else could they go? Tattered and tired, fearful and frustrated, they left the woods under disguise almost six miles from where they had entered them – a testament to the terrified speed that Fate had summoned in her desperate flight.

Eventually, after stumbling around the city for almost an hour, they were eventually half-led, half-carried by Arf to a fast food restaurant in outskirts of the city. Vesta disappeared off somewhere as Arf led them there, having exchanged some intense glances with the wolf-woman that both girls were too tired to pay attention to. She met them at the entrance, in her adult form, and gently took Nanoha in her arms to carry her over to a booth near the back.

“Mistress?” she whispered. “Mistress, wake up. I need to know what you want to eat.”

Nanoha blinked blearily at her, dimly aware of Arf whispering the same thing to Fate, who was half-asleep on her shoulder. The blonde was in even worse shape than she was, having taken more of a beating from the branches as they barrelled through the woods. And while Nanoha had dumped almost all of her magic into the transfer, Fate had been the one using it.

A thought prodded at the back of her mind, though it took a few seconds to resolve. “Vesta?” she mumbled, “Where’d…” a yawn broke her off as the lateness of the hour began to catch up to her, “… where’d you get money for this?”

Vesta didn’t so much as blink. “I’m a cat, mistress!” she replied seamlessly, in a reassuring tone. “Don't you remember? People just love poor wet bedraggled kittens, and are all generous with them! Think how much food you give me when I'm all cute and injured!”

Nanoha turned this over in her head for a minute, before deciding that it was too complicated to think about at this time of night. Nor was she entirely sure what was actually sold here, since she had neglected to look at a menu. She glanced at the one on the table, which seemed far too far away to bother reaching, and chose something that sounded safely generic. “Um… chicken, then. Sandwich.”

“Sm’s’hr,” came a tiny voice from the weight on her shoulder, which seemed to mean something to Arf, as she nodded. A glance at Vesta, who narrowed her eyes, and Arf sighed and nodded again.

“Fine,” she muttered, and sat down next to Fate protectively as Vesta left in the direction of the counter to get food.

The meal woke them up a bit. Well, it woke Nanoha up a bit, enough to stop her eyelids drifting closed and pay attention to her surroundings and recognise the golden arches on the far wall. Arf devoured half a dozen nuggets, and Vesta helped herself to a cheeseburger, and then a second one after the first disappeared too quickly to be properly enjoyed. Fate had to be prompted through eating her sandwich, and though it and a bottle of water woke her up a little, she was still barely responsive.

“Where are we going?” asked Nanoha as they left the restaurant and headed along a main road and down a hill. Vesta shifted an arm from around her and pointed to a large building up ahead where buses were congregating.

“Bus stop,” she explained. “We’re going to be ‘waiting for a late bus’. You two can sleep, me and Arf will nap in shifts. That should get us through the night, and then we can decide what to do in the morning.”

“We can’t do anything in the morning.”

All heads turned to Fate, cradled up in Arf’s arms, who appeared to have woken up at least enough to whisper. She looked up at them, her head at an awkward angle and one of her ponytails falling loose down to Arf’s hip.

“We can’t do anything,” she repeated. “We’ve lost. They have the apartment, they have our notes and stuff. They only got destroyed in the barrier, so the real stuff is still there for them to look through. We can’t lead them back to Mother, we can’t evade them for much longer now that they’ve caught us once.” Her voice held a terrible calm. She didn’t stutter or sob; she didn’t seem panicked or upset. There was just an empty, bleak despondency. “We can’t get the Jewel Seeds from them now that they’re here in force, and we can’t run from them, and we can’t hide from them. There’s nothing we can do. I… I don’t know what to do.”

She twisted in Arf’s grasp to look at Nanoha helplessly. “What can we do?” she asked, almost begging for a solution, a magical, wonderful way to solve everything.

And Nanoha stepped closer, and gently took her by the hands, looking reassuringly into the eyes of the girl who had seemed so in control, so competent and mature when they had first met. Now, she saw the cracks in that façade as the despairing young girl within looked out at the apparently hopelessness of their cause. But despite the fact that their position seemed every bit as bad to Nanoha, she had never been one to give up in the face of impossible odds. And she had always been willing to raise the stakes when thing seemed desperate.

So she looked confidently into Fate’s eyes, and smiled, and squeezed her hands.

And said, “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

…


	11. Chapter Ten

The animal was dead.

It lay on the cold, sterile surface within the testing chamber. Small – perhaps ten centimetres long – and broadly rodent-like, it had a long snout, prominent incisors and a stubby, furred tail. Its neck had been cleanly broken, the sudden force killing it before it even had a chance to register any pain.

And yet it still lived. After a fashion. Its heart beat, its blood flowed round its body, its lungs breathed in and out in a steady pattern that could almost be taken for slumber, and tiny currents of bioelectricity kept its brain activity at a level equivalent to a light coma.

Occasional fat crackles of violet light zigzagged lazily across its fur, stemming from the coin-sized metal plate set into its chest. Connected to it by a lattice of wires, a Jewel Seed hummed from its seat in a plate that resembled a larger version of that grafted onto the rodent.

Precia ran a practiced eye over the readouts monitoring her subject. All its life signs were positive and stable, the displays showing the steady rhythm of its vitals. She pursed her lips, and tapped the screen in front of her.

Within the heavy, sealed chamber, a low whine started.

Precia’s eyes flicked over the readouts, and she mentally prompted her Device to record. “AMF established at 1.1 drakhins,” she noted. “Vital signs holding steady, though with a slight fluctuation in the mana supply.” Pale fingers moved over the keyboard briefly, bringing up new windows on the holographic screens. “It is minor, approximating to a 0.7% variation in total flux, and seems to be largely confined to the connective wiring between the plates. Removing this element by grafting the Jewel Seed in directly may remove this factor. Increasing AMF to 1.2dr.”

Her finger traced a slider on one of the light-windows that hovered before her, and the whine grew a fraction louder in pitch. The fat violet crackles that moved across the small form wavered slightly.

“Vital signs remain constant. Flux variation has increased to 0.8%. Increasing AMF to 1.5dr.”

Four more increments of increased AMF strength passed until Precia stopped. The AMF within the containment chamber now stood at 7.5 drakhins, tearing mana within it into component motes and rendering spells a full seven and a half times more difficult to control and maintain through the disruption.

The Jewel Seed’s humming had increased in pitch, and the sparks were now entirely gone. Nonetheless, the animal lay breathing and stable under magical life support, despite the interference that should have long since taken the equipment offline. Precia checked the flux variation, now hovering just under 14%, and smiled thinly.

“Good,” she murmured. “Bring up my notes on Imaginary Space.”

She tapped the search function in lieu of paging through the comprehensive file to find the section she needed. “Estimated AMF strength in Imaginary Space upper levels,” she ordered, and waited as the file scrolled down to the correct portion.

The estimations were, unfortunately, sparse. Anti-Magilink Fields had been developed from observations of the way that Imaginary Space tore apart magic within it, but the natural effect there was far stronger than anything that had been artificially reproduced. And study was difficult when the properties of the dimensional layer being studied actively attacked attempts to study it. Still, a rough range was enough.

“A seventy to eighty five-fold increase in dissolution strength, with a mean AMF strength of 77 drakhins. Hmm.” A slight frown creased her brow. Her equipment, while powerful, did not have the force to produce even a small AMF of that intensity. But she could certainly test it up to the limits that the unit was capable of.

Tapping the Device again, she sagged slightly as a cough forced its way up her throat, followed by another, and then another. She groped for a glass of water, downed a gulp along with two small pills and lowered herself into a chair until the minor fit subsided.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat when it seemed to be over. “Increasing AMF to 15 drakhins.”

She kept an eye on the fluctuating supply along the connecting wires as the AMF rose. It was starting to reach worrying levels, and she could see the animal’s life signs begin to destabilise in turn as they were repeatedly drained and overcharged. The wires linking the two plates glowed slightly as the magic coursed down them. The Jewel Seed was able to keep up with the demand, but the channel down which the mana was flowing were evidently sub-par. Nevertheless, Precia continued to raise the field strength, noting the values for each increment. She wanted to see how far she could go.

It wasn’t until a reading of 26.7 drakhins that the tortured wiring finally gave up. With a flash of sparks visible even through the tinted observation window, it shorted out explosively as a power spike surged through it in its last few seconds. The fuses on the life support blew, but were unable to prevent the awesome magical charge from making it partially through to the rodent they were hooked up to anyway. It jerked and spasmed as if it were still alive as the tide of raw mana literally cooked it from within, until the connection broke completely and it dropped limp once more.

Precia pursed her lips again, considering. Bringing up the Device, she considered for a moment before speaking. “A delocalised power source is insufficient for the task of maintaining medical stasis under heavy AMF. Fluctuations induced in the wiring – possibly from trace impurities in the conduction material – present far too much risk. Alicia may need a Jewel Seed directly integrated into the life support mechanisms to get her to Alhazred.” She turned, violet eyes tracking over to the cages on the other side of the room. The animals within cowered, somehow sensing that they should be afraid in this cold, eerie place of metal and magic.

“The next test will repeat this experiment with different species, to confirm the effect is not unique to Subject 1,” she declared. “Further tests will observe the correlation between wire length and fluctuation and to what extent the eventual failure of the connection is accelerated or retarded by different setups.” A wild cat hissed as her gaze fell on it. “After that, if all goes well, testing will move on to direct integration in larger subjects.”

The testing unit hummed industriously as it removed the dead body from its interior and cleaned itself. Ready for the next subject.

…

Precia was not the only one doing research. On Earth, languid waves lapped at the wall of the harbour in Uminari City. Fate stood at the edge of the wall, the second rung down of a railing that overlooked the sheer drop to the water below her. Nanoha watched her from the shelter of a shop awning across the bustling street as she balanced there, her eyes closed meditatively.

The illusion she was wearing gave her brown hair and she appeared to be an inch or two taller – the extra height all coming from the legs – but Nanoha could still see her friend’s mannerisms under the disguise as she concentrated. Arf lay curled beneath her in her puppy form, helping her pick up the faint traces she was passively looking for on the ocean floor. The pair had been frozen there like a tableau for several minutes, leaving Nanoha and Vesta to keep watch. Keeping one eye on the crowds and trusting Vesta’s ears to pick up any comments about them, Nanoha mused idly on all that had happened to her since she and the young Testarossa had met.

Eventually, Fate leaned back and dropped down to the pavement again, sagging slightly. Nanoha hurried forwards to support her.

“Well?” she asked. Vesta mewled her agreement with the query from her now-customary place in Nanoha’s hood, shifting up to peek over her shoulder.

Fate smiled tiredly. “You were right,” she confirmed. “They’re there. All five of them. I can’t pin them down exactly, but they’re definitely all there.”

“Wonderful!” Nanoha cheered, but quietened when Fate waved a hand for her to pay attention.

“That’s not all,” she explained quietly. “We’re in luck. They’re not as powerful, from what I can tell, as the ones we’ve been fighting. I think the water must be preventing them from soaking up the mana from all the battles we’ve been having. Less of it gets down to the seabed; the water soaks more of it up before it can get there. That means they’re weak… well, weaker. Maybe the level of the first one we fought together, in the hospital.”

Nanoha smiled, encouraged. Taking Fate’s hands in her own, she interlaced their fingers and squeezed. “That’s even better,” she grinned. “We can do this. I know we can.”

Fate let out a soft breath that was part laughter, part surprise. “You know, I’m starting to believe we just might,” she agreed. “Okay, so we need to work out how we’re going to…”

 _‘We need to leave,’_ interrupted Vesta. _‘Someone across the street just said something about your parents letting you balance like that. Go, before they come over.’_

The girls traded worried glances. Nanoha recovered first, letting off a peal of laughter that sounded only slightly forced, and grabbing Fate’s hand. She tugged the other girl along behind her as she ran off down the quay, looking for all the world like two ordinary schoolgirls out and about for some fun.

They came to a stop when the harbour wall ended and the road dipped and ran down to a beach. Breathing hard, Nanoha tumbled to a stop in a swish of her skirt and turned a flushed face to Fate. “Wow,” she laughed, “that was great work, Vesta! We’re lucky to have you! You’re like an early warning system!”

“I’d like a warning system for when you run off like that!” Arf jogged up, having been left behind by their quick run down the street. She was in human form now, having evidently stopped to change somewhere along the way. She was, in accordance with their attempts not to attract attention, wearing something slightly more modest than her regular outfit. It was only slightly more modest, though, as the skirt was still rather short and her neckline revealed a bit more cleavage than was strictly necessary. Nanoha wasn’t quite sure where these tastes in fashion had come from, but for now she was willing to ascribe it to the magic. Or possibly to Precia’s influence.

“Seriously,” Arf grumbled as she came up to them. “Stay close to me as an adult from now on, and we won’t get any more ‘parent’ stuff. Now, where are we going next?”

“Well…” Nanoha bit her lip in thought. “We can’t go back to the apartment, that’s obvious. And we can’t go to my house either… or Suzuka’s or Arisa’s, I guess.” She frowned. “Hmm. Tricky.”

Fate bit her lip. “I’m sorry,” she said, and Nanoha turned to her with a quirked eyebrow.

“What for?”

Gesturing, as if to encompass their surroundings and everything that had happened over the past few weeks, Fate shrugged. “This. Having to run away when people pay attention to us. Having to leave your home and your family. Not having anywhere to go. Being scared and outnumbered and alone. It’s because you’re helping me. If I hadn’t shown up, you’d…”

“Still have been fighting the Jewel Seeds with Yuuno-kun,” retorted Nanoha crossly, putting her hands on her hips. “And I would have found out about Alicia-chan one way or another anyway. Besides, I’ve been on my own before, when papa was in hospital.” She frowned in disapproval. “Maybe I am here because of you. Maybe you did make mistakes. But I’d be somewhere like it anyway, even if you hadn’t! So you’re not allowed to beat yourself up over ‘getting me into this’. Yuuno-kun did that as well, and he was just as wrong as you are. I _chose_ this path. And a me who hadn’t chosen it wouldn’t _be_ me.”

Then, despite the telling-off, her expression softened and she took Fate’s hand again, squeezing gently. “Besides, I’m not alone, and neither are you. We have each other, and we have Arf-chan and Vesta-chan, and Precia-san and Linith-san will help us if we really need it. And if you really need it – not that I accept it’s your fault – but if you _have_ made any mistakes that have led to this, I forgive you for them.” The admonishing frown returned. “So no being upset at yourself, okay? Think positive!”

Something in her words, whether it was the scolding, the encouragement or a mixture of both, reached through. Fate offered her a cautious, slightly wary smile and squeezed back. “Alright,” she agreed, looking at Nanoha with a hint of confused uncertainty. “I won’t.”

She tilted her head, considering Nanoha as if she were some strange new species Fate had never seen before.

“You’ve mentioned your father was in hospital before. And it seems like something important. Is it…” she paused diplomatically, seeking the right words, “could I ask what happened?”

Nanoha hesitated, and nodded. “Well… when I was little,” she started, and was cut off by Arf.

“Nuh uh,” said the wolf-familiar. “No. You can share more personal history when we’re somewhere safer. But not here and not now. I already don’t like this plan, I like standing around in the open even less. Where do we go?”

Nanoha closed her eyes, thinking hard for a long moment as she ran over the city in her head. Decision made, she opened them again. “The library,” she declared. “We can talk there in private, there are enough people that we’ll be hard to pick out, and it’s warm and inside.”

“Right then,” breathed Arf. “Let’s go.”

…

Yuuno stared at his plate unhappily, poking his food around it with glum listlessness. The dining hall was sparsely populated, with only two or three small groups eating around tables on the other side of the room from him. While not a large room, having been only designed to take a full shift’s worth of people rather than a whole crew, it wasn’t overly small either, and their chatter blended into a low background noise from which only the occasional word emerged clearly.

They fell on deaf ears, though. Yuuno ignored the conversations, lost in his own thoughts. His preoccupation was such that he didn’t notice the figure walking up to his table until a tray clattered down beside his and the adjacent chair was pulled back with a cheerful “Hi!”

Turning to ask whoever the intruder was to leave, Yuuno found the words catching in his throat as a long green ponytail swayed as its owner sat down. “Um…” he stumbled, “uh, hello, Admiral.”

“Please, it’s Lindy. I’m off-duty at the moment,” she smiled. “And proper rank and so on might be important on the bridge, but you’re not there at the moment. Or even part of the Bureau, come to mention it.” She examined her food carefully, tilting her head. “Hmm. You know, the menu said this was skelti, but I honestly wouldn’t have been able to guess.” She sighed mournfully. “That’s the problem with long patrols. Once the canteen stocks start running low, the food gets a bit… well.” She shot him a grin. “Our chef is wonderful, but there’s a limit to what even he can do with the stuff we get for long-duration missions.”

Despite his glum mood, Yuuno’s lips twitched slightly. “I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he admitted. “My clan are nomads, but we usually live off the land or trade for supplies. I guess you can’t really do that here, unless you picked up stuff from Type 1 worlds or something.”

Lindy shrugged. “It’s possible, yes. But we’re not really meant to forage from inhabited Unadministered Worlds, and we’re working on a skeleton crew as it is. If we had more people, I might spare the manpower for a few trips, but as it is I’m afraid we’re stuck with shipboard rations.”

She gave him a searching look. “But I don’t think it’s the quality of the food that has you sitting over here like a hermit. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Yuuno’s gaze returned to his plate. Silence hung in the air.

“Ah,” said Lindy after a short pause. “I see. So, I’m guessing you’re worried for Miss Takamachi, then.” It wasn’t a question, and both of them knew it. He didn’t answer immediately, and she applied herself to her meal, patiently waiting for him to speak.

“… I just feel helpless,” he admitted eventually. “Like she’s in trouble, and on the wrong side, and I can’t do anything to help her or convince her otherwise or protect her from…” He trailed off, unwilling to complete the sentence.

“From the consequences of aiding a known dimensional criminal, and tampering with Class 1 Hazardous Lost Logia,” Lindy finished, with terrible gentleness. “She will be in quite a bit of trouble if this goes much further, that much is true.”

He looked up urgently. “The Imaginary Space rift…”

“Was not her fault,” she cut in reassuringly before he could go any further. “All of the reports on that particular catastrophe agree that nobody is sure whose shot triggered that. She won’t be blamed for something that happened in the heat of combat. Though having it in the first place… well.”

She shook her head and pushed her tray to one side, leaning forward slightly and resting her arms on the table. “If she was brought in at this point, she would not get off free. I won’t lie to you on that score. But nor will she be punished severely.” A faint grin. “We really aren’t the bad guys here, remember. She’ll likely get a limiter for a few years, and be required to pass some psych evaluations before we take them off, but she hasn’t done anything really serious yet.”

“I still feel like I should be doing something.”

“I know the feeling,” Lindy agreed, and Yuuno glanced at her in surprise. She stared back, entirely serious, her hands clasped together on the table. “No, really. I do. I feel the same way every time I send people out on a mission. They’re the ones in danger, and all I can do is sit up on the ship and bark orders. Admiral, after all. I can’t go down on missions in anything other than emergencies, I’m needed to command the ship. Too valuable to lose.” Her face twisted slightly as she said it, a grimace of distaste at the concept.

Yuuno, for his part, found himself taken considerably off-centre by the admission. “Well…” he faltered, “I wouldn’t say you _bark_ …”

That drew a laugh, and she leaned back as she chuckled delightedly, drawing glances from the other groups in the canteen. “Thank you, I appreciate that. But still, you know what I mean. And the thing is, however frustrating it may feel, the best thing I can do is my job. I can do more good up on the ship, supervising, than I could on the ground as part of a mission team.”

She watched as the boy considered that. He still felt guilty for the fiasco with the Takamachi girl, she could tell. Though whether it was for ‘betraying’ her by siding with the TSAB against her, or for making her a threat in the first place, she couldn’t say. It was entirely possible it was both. Emotions were rarely logical.

“It wasn’t your fault either, you know,” she said quietly. “Her choice. It was her own. You shouldn’t feel you’re responsible for this situation. It’s just one of those things where everybody loses. Nobody is really at fault, it’s just that the world isn’t fair like that.”

He nodded, but didn’t seem entirely convinced. Which wasn’t unexpected, she supposed. Still, the faintly haunted look that had been in his eyes since the raid on the apartment had dimmed, which was a good sign.

“So… what can I do?” he asked, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture of uncertainty. Lindy thought about it. It took a few seconds for her to come up with the best advice she could think of, but she didn’t want to rush something this important.

“Finish sealing the Jewel Seeds,” she advised. “Get them out of the way first, so that we can stop this mess from getting any worse. Try to stop her from doing anything else that will look bad on her record. And don’t stop reaching out to her. You may be the only one who can talk to her and get her to see reason. If you can convince her to see that what she’s doing is wrong and get her to come willingly, she’ll almost certainly get off relatively lightly.”

Sighing deeply, feeling the weight of responsibility settle once again on his shoulders, Yuuno nodded. It was a big task. An almost impossible task, in fact. But it was at least something he could _do_ , even if success was far from guaranteed.

“I’ll try my best,” he promised, looking up at Lindy in gratitude. “Thank you.”

She gave him another searching look, and was apparently satisfied with what she found. Flashing him one last smile, she picked up her empty tray and left.

…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Quint waited patiently for the call to connect. This far out, it was inevitable that getting a proper signal would take time, and she wasn’t quite impatient enough to get angry about it. Especially not as tired as she felt. Though that didn’t mean she couldn’t be a little exasperated at the delay.

With a muted crackle, the connection finally opened, and Quint looked upon a fond and familiar face. Putting aside the stresses and sadness that had been dragging at her heels for the moment, she gave her husband a cheerful smile. It was good to see him after almost two months on the Shroud case and then the Jewel Seeds, even if it was just over a video connection.

“Hi, honey,” she greeted him.

“Quint, sweetheart.” Genya Nakajima was a distinguished-looking man in his early forties, with a square jaw and the first wrinkles of age just beginning to deepen around his eyes. His expression, stern by default, softened at the sight of his wife. “It’s been far too long since you were home,” he sighed. “I found another white hair today. Clearly, I'm pining away without you.” He ran a hand over short-cropped grey hair and put on a look of mock distress.

Quint cracked a smirk. “That would tug at my heartstrings more if I could tell your white hairs from your normal ones. I'll be done when I'm done, dear.”

A sigh, and he palmed his face. “I know, I know. At least tell me that it’s going well. To the extent that you can.”

“It’s…” Quint cocked her head, her ponytail falling to one side as she considered. “It’s not a complete disaster, I suppose.” She took in Genya’s expression and hastily elaborated. “That is, we got here a bit late, but we’re been wrapping things up reasonably well since we’ve arrived. I just feel sorry for the poor native girl caught up in it…” She sighed, morose again.

“Hmm.” Genya leant back in his chair. He looked to be at home, if the room behind him was any indicator. The rich green walls were easily recognisable, lending a pleasant natural feel to the room, and a landscape painting marked the wall behind him. Swivelling around, Genya vanished from sight for a moment as he retrieved something from the bookcase on the adjacent wall, before returning with a file. “Well, I may have something that should cheer you up a bit. The girls.”

“Ah, yes!” That _was_ better news. “How are things going? The adoption procedures are all going well?” She frowned. The girls had been adorable, one of them a tiny little thing of five and the other a little older, trying desperately to be brave and protect her little sister. Well, her ‘little sister’. From what the TSAB had been able to work out, they were closer to twins than sisters. Clones of her. And she could see it, in their faces, their resemblance to Quint was obvious even at their age. They’d looked so scared and small and frail, it had been impossible not to offer to take them in. That it had given her a chance for something she’d begun to think she would never have the chance for had merely cemented her resolve to adopt them.

Genya rolled his eyes in disgust and grimaced. “Urgh. Don’t even go there. The Bureau is making it as easy as they can, but the _amount_ of paperwork… I swear; it’s like someone doesn’t want anything to get done. Ever.” He caught the laughter sparkling in Quint’s eyes at his complaints, but didn’t mirror it. “And... there have been problems. Mostly because you’ve been away on this Shroud mission, and now this new one in a backwater somewhere. The agencies want to be sure that you’ll be there for them.”

“They-” Quint cut herself off quickly. It was a valid concern. “They… have a point, I guess. Hmm. So that’s slowing it down? They need proof that we’ll be able give the girls the care and attention they need?” She barely noticed the answering nod, drumming her fingers on her knee as she turned over numbers in her mind. “Hmm. Then I might see about taking myself off the ‘off world duties’ roster. Megane’s going to be busy with her baby, so our team’s more or less out of commission as a unit for the next few years anyway...”

“How’s she doing, by the way?” Genya cut in. “You said you were worried about how she was coping.”

“Oh, you know. Stubborn. Irritable. Snippish. Argumentative. And then she’s pregnant on top of that, so we can add ‘hormonal’ to the list.” She grinned conspiratorially. “She’s not really fond of the whole ‘pregnancy’ thing in the first place. And she’s rubbing the Admiral the wrong way, which is making for a _wonderful_ dynamic in the chain of command.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Quint rolled her eyes in exasperation. “She’s honey-sweet once you get to know her, but Streben-Kaisers, she can be such a _pain_ at times. Though I guess the hormones aren’t helping.” She smiled ruefully. “She’s finding it hard to sleep, too. Makes her cranky. Anyway… yes, if I move back to local affairs… try telling them that. See if helps. I can start the paperwork from here.”

Genya stifled a yawn, and she paused to look at him. Hard. “You look _tired_ ,” she remarked. “Have you been sleeping enough?” His shamefaced lack of a reply was enough, and she folded her arms disapprovingly. “Genya, dear. You need to look after yourself better.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” he said, in a voice that made it clear he wasn’t. “It’s been a long day. We still haven’t found all of them. And some of the older ones want to join the TSAB, which raises a host of legal issues about autonomy, since it looks like they were being _made_ for us. Plus, only one of them is above the age cap. You can imagine the mess it’s causing.”

He cracked a faint smile at his wife’s theatrical wince. “Yeah, it’s been one of those times where I agree with you on command positions being too much of a hassle. Do you have any idea on when you’ll be able to come home?”

Now it was Quint’s turn to grimace. “It… might be a while, I’m afraid,” she apologised. “There’s still quite a bit to do, and I may need to do some remedial training.”

“Oh?” Genya raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware of anywhere you were getting rusty. Is there something I should know?”

“No, no,” she laughed. “Not for me.” She stood; kicking the chair she had been lounging on back under the desk and walking over to fall onto her bunk. The quarters she had been issued weren’t big, and the furnishings were fairly basic, but at least they were tolerable. A careless gesture had the holo-window obediently follow her and angle as she fell back onto the mattress to keep her in view.

“It’s this girl,” she explained. “One of the cadets assigned to the same mission. She tried something dangerous, which I suspect came from trying to emulate me.”

Her husband raised a curious eyebrow, and Quint propped herself up on her elbows, making sure she had a good look at Genya’s face. “She jumped,” she explained, “off the top of a building that must have been at least ten storeys if it was an inch. And then used horizontal barriers as stepping stones to engage her target.”

Genya stared. “That… what was she thinking?”

A shrug. “In fairness to her, it wasn’t quite as bad as it sounds. There was another flight-capable mage nearby, and her teammates were on the roof she jumped from. One of them could have slowed her down if she’d fallen. Still, I should probably have a talk to her about trying to mimic Rare Skills without a solid knowledge of what she’s doing.”

“Please do,” Genya said fervently. “Cadets are expensive. I’d really prefer not to lose them to stunts like… honestly, how old is she, to try something like that? The precision she’d need… I doubt she could keep it up for more than a few seconds.”

Quint cracked a wry smile, winding a lock of violet hair around her finger absentmindedly. “Fifteen. And yeah, she seems to be fairly reckless, though I suspect Basic beat rather more of it out of her. She reminds me a bit of another young cadet, actually, when she was young.”

That drew a laugh out of him, rocking back on his chair and clapping his hands. “Yes, I can imagine!” he agreed, chuckling. “Though you’ve calmed down a lot since those days.”

Lidded turquoise caught him in a captivating gaze. “And who said I was talking about myself, hmm?” Quint murmured, low and amused.

Genya grinned unashamedly. He knew he was probably going to pay for that, at some point. But he really couldn’t, given the glint in his wife’s eye and the smirk spreading across her face, bring himself to care.

…

“Alright.”

The holographic map floated upwards from the table, a three-dimensional model of the region the Jewel Seeds had landed in. A dull red glow marked the activation points of the Jewel Seeds so far, and the areas that had been scanned were greyed out. Chrono leaned on the metal rim of the table, focusing with laser intensity on the projection.

“They're two nine year old girls,” he said. “One of them is a native, and knows the area. The other should know that we have a sensor grid cranked up to cover the entire area, so jumping out risks us catching her. She’d lose all her tactical advantage if she did that, we’d know whenever she arrived back on UA97. So. What will they do?

Heidi idly twisted the ring that was her Device’s storage form around her finger, leaning back in one of the chairs as she took in the tableau. Next to her, Tiida frowned thoughtfully.

“They'll know not to go near the places they know we know about,” he offered. “They know we followed them in some way for the ambush. They might not know how, but it’ll have made them wary.”

“Yes, that makes sense.” Heidi stopped to cover a yawn, and made a note to get some sleep soon. “They're… hmm. Unlikely to just sweep the area, because we do that faster than them, and we've shown we can beat them to a Seed.” She picked up a pen and twiddled it between her fingers absently. “Which means that they’re going to be trying to think of a way to beat us to the remainder.” Leaning forward, she tapped the ocean with her Device, highlighting it. “Which, as far as we can tell, are somewhere in here.”

Chrono nodded. “Okay. Ideally, then, we want to catch up to them before they get a chance to do so. Given we know that someone else set the wards up on the apartment, there may well be another individual on-planet; possibly Precia Testarossa, possibly someone else. They may have another hide-out, so if they have that, they'll probably go to ground for a few days and reconsider all their options. If we can… yes, cadet?”

Heidi was holding up a finger for him to stop, her head tilted to one side. “There’s another possibility we can eliminate first. We know they have access to local funds. It’s probable that we didn’t get all of those in the apartment. Might they try to find a new place to stay?”

“Hmm. Good point.” Chrono considered it. “Yes… we know they have two familiars, so they'll be able to get 'adults'. Which is probably how they’ve been operating so far. So, yes, there's a good chance they might go at least rent a hotel room. Does this world have a central database of accommodations?”

“I’ll check,” offered Heidi, calling up a virtual interface and starting to type. Tiida moved forwards into the silence, drumming his fingers along the edge of the table.

“There's still a manhunt going on for Miss Takamachi...” he mused. “Which means they'll have to use illusionary appearances, but we know they can do that. It'll probably be better to look for the familiars; they might not know we know what they look like. Or… hmm. How likely is it that _they_ know where the rest of the Jewel Seeds are?”

Raising a hand to massage his eyes, Chrono blinked rapidly. It had been quite a while since he’d got any real sleep, and the tiredness was starting to catch up to him. “Well, let’s see,” he thought aloud. “They don’t have sensors like ours, and though we can’t rule out search magic, it’s probable that we’d have detected anything large enough to give them a decent chance of finding them. On the other hand, from the charts in the apartment, they’d covered most of the land already. Which means they’re probably at least aware that the remainder are in the ocean somewhere, if not where.”

“If they know that, they’ll be trying to pinpoint the locations,” Heidi observed, glancing up from the screen she was working on. “It might be an idea to keep an eye on any boats going out. Maybe put a few sensors along the shoreline, too.”

“Yes, good plan. Lanster, can you and your team handle that?” The redhead nodded, and Chrono returned his attention to the projection, eyes flicking over it intently. “That alone isn’t enough, though,” he murmured. “We really need a way to get to them ourselves… hmm. Scanning for their magical signature is useless, too much water. And trying to find them visually would be like looking for one star in a galaxy. How else can we find them?”

Heidi tilted her head, rolling her pen between her fingers. “If we can’t scan for the magic directly, could we scan for its effects on the surroundings? I’m pretty sure it should affect the water directly around the Jewel Seeds somehow.”

Chrono and Tiida shared a speculative glance.

“We might be able to repurpose something…” Chrono suggested. “It won’t be a large change, but looking for anomalous densities on the seabed might help us narrow things down. Hmm. Talk to Amy - uh, Officer Limietta, on the bridge. She should be able to give a more qualified opinion.”

“I’ll get on it now,” promised Tiida, pushing himself up and leaving the room. Despite the drag of tiredness, Chrono felt energised at the breakthrough. This might be enough to conclude the case. Even if it wasn’t, it was a definite step in the right direction.

“We can cross-reference the results with the readings I got,” Heidi noted without looking up from her screen. “They weren’t exactly precise, but the hotspots should give us an idea of where the right areas to look are.”

“Hmm. Yes. Good thinking.” Chrono glanced up at the girl, who would have been considerably taller than him even without the three year age advantage. Somehow, she noticed with a faint tinge of unease, he still seemed larger. Maybe it was the sharp mind she could see working behind the boyish face, as he pinned her with an evaluating stare that grew increasingly less comfortable the longer he held it.

Or maybe it was the fact that she knew for a fact that he was three ranks higher than her and barely even into his teens. The thought of that kind of potential was simultaneously galling and frightening. “So,” he remarked after a thoughtful pause, “Heidi. Have you thought what you want to do after you've cleaned the cadet stage?”

“Um.” She swallowed nervously. “Well, I've been looking at the Designated Aerial Marksman training programme. That would mean that I'd need to reach A-rank, which... well, I hope to be able to do that by the end of training, so... I guess it depends on that. If I don’t make that, I’m not sure what I’ll go into.”

Chrono hummed to himself, nodding. “Good plan. You’re suited to it. Have you thought about applying for the Enforcer examinations?”

Ah. So that was it. Heidi didn’t need to fake the uncomfortable expression; it came naturally at the thought of applying for Enforcer status. “There... uh, might be some issues with my nationality status for that. Sir.”

“Ah, yes,” he recalled. “Schzenais. Yes, that could cause issues. Still… you’ve got a sharp mind and good instincts. It would be a shame to waste that potential. Here.” He tapped S2U’s card form, hanging around his neck as a pendant, and a window opened on Heidi’s screen. “Basic information pack. Requirements, job description, that sort of thing. Have a look through it later, if nothing else. You might find something interesting in there.”

She raised an eyebrow, considering. She’d never given much thought to Enforcer status before, but he had a point. It was probably at least worth a look.

“Thank you, sir,” she said with genuine appreciation. “I’ll do that.” A short pause. “Um. After we work out what the hostiles are doing.”

…

“I still don’t like this,” announced Arf sullenly. “It’s too risky. And too loud. The Bureau will be on us in minutes. Seconds, even.” Despite her complaints, she had been preparing since early morning, forcing the girls to eat and closing as many holes in the plan as she could. Unfortunately, that wasn’t many, and it wasn’t because of a lack of them in the first place.

“If you have a better way to get the last few Seeds,” replied Fate, “name it. I know what you mean, I can see the risk in this as well. But they’ve got better sensors than us, more people than us, and we can’t fight them head-on. This is the only way we can get at the Jewel Seeds before they do.”

Arf grumbled. But she didn’t complain again. As both of them knew, she had no better plan. None of them did. Nanoha’s scheme was insane, but it was the only recourse they could see left open to them.

And besides, Fate thought with a note of wry humour. Insane seemed to work out for the native girl. Some of the time, anyway.

“Okay then,” said Nanoha, stepping forward. She looked out over the seaboard with faraway eyes, lost in thought. Fate watched her quietly, taking in the way the wind stirred her hair and how she bit her lower lip slightly as she contemplated whatever was occupying her mind. It was raining lightly, and the light patter of raindrops wet her hair and made her blink water out of her eyes every so often.

“Nanoha,” she prompted, and the other girl snapped out of her reverie.

“Okay,” she repeated. “Right, yeah. Sorry. Are we ready?”

“Yes.” Fate inclined her head slightly as nervousness bubbled in her stomach.

“When you are, Mistress!” Vesta bounced, apparently unaffected by the tension in the air between the four of them.

“No.” All heads turned to Arf, who rolled her eyes and shrugged. “But I’ll go anyway. Even if I think this is a bad plan.”

Nanoha’s lips quirked slightly, betraying her amusement at the stubborn wolf-woman. Turning back to the ocean, she took a deep breath and forced down the nausea churning in her stomach, quelling her own apprehension with an act of will. It helped a little, but she still felt sick with fear at the danger inherent in the plan. Doing this sort of thing was much, much easier when she didn’t have time to actually _think_ about what she was attempting to do.

“Then let’s do this,” she said.

Arf stepped forwards, all grumbling gone and her face deadly serious. “Once I cast,” she warned, “there’s no going back. The TSAB will be on us in minutes at best.”

If Fate was worried, she wasn't showing it. She nodded with every appearance of calm readiness. “Getting into the barrier will slow them down,” she said. “That should give us enough time to wake the Seeds and seal them while they’re weak.”

“You are sure they _will_ be weak, right?” asked Vesta. Fate shrugged in response.

“They should be. The forced awakening ahead of time will sort of knock them off-balance for a few minutes. They’ll be more dangerous afterwards, I think. But that shouldn’t matter if we seal them before that.”

“Right,” sighed Arf. “Then I really hope you’re right, mistress.” She held a hand out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Fate extended hers to overlap it. Vesta added her hand to the stack, and Nanoha completed the silent promise of solidarity and fellowship with hers.

“We’re going to win this,” she promised, as much to convince herself as to encourage the others.

Arf didn’t waste any more words. Stepping back, she shifted into her war form and growled with effort as she cast the barrier.

Monochrome engulfed the world, and the sound of the rain cut off as unearthly silence descended. Vesta rippled and vanished even as she transformed, though Nanoha could still feel the comforting warmth of her familiar beside her as she summoned her Barrier Jacket and took to the skies. Fate and Arf did likewise, and they flashed out over the bay until they were in roughly the centre of the area that they had narrowed down the Jewel Seed’s positions to. Following the plan to the letter, two Devices extended, pointed down, and started to charge.

It was funny, Nanoha reflected as the power built. Now that the plan was underway and she was doing things, she wasn’t nervous at all anymore. There was just calm determination.

And power. Lots of power.

[Divine Buster]  
[Thunder Smasher]

Two pillars of light lanced down, crashing into the bay’s waters in an almighty crash. Clouds of spray were thrown up, forming a plume of foam and mist that obscured the point of impact. The attacks bored downwards, forcing their way through the clear, clean water to strike the seabed with terrible force. The shockwave produced by the collision triggered a foot-high wave that spread out across the bay, like a ripple cast in an enormous pond.

But that wasn’t the aim. The direct results of the bombardment spells were a mere side effect to the main goal. The mana of the spell sublimated as the spell wore on, leaking out of the beam and scattering off the seabed. As Fate and Nanoha strained to keep the power going, the magic spread, diffused into the ocean, saturated the water and expanded outwards from the impact point.

Fate cut her beam first, and Nanoha followed suit. It was a delicate balance that they had to run. They needed to use enough power to force the Jewel Seeds to activate, but not enough that they would then be unable to seal them. Nevertheless, as the water rippled, it seemed that they had hit the mark perfectly. Bubbling, boiling, fountaining upwards, a pillar of water began to rise slowly from the harbour’s surface. It was a fragile, tremulous thing that looked like it was only just being prevented from collapsing. A particularly large rippled travelled through it, and for a moment it looked like it was going to collapse entirely.

Then it gathered itself, and shot skywards in a pillar.

“Whoa!” Nanoha yelped as she and Fate shot out of the way. The pillar rose higher and higher, like a vast tree trunk growing with impossible speed up from the water’s surface. It curved as it rose, cresting almost a hundred metres above the surface and then travelling down again like the line of a huge archway. Before it had gone far, it stopped its lightning ascent and instead began to bulge, the water spreading out as if it was filling a large ball. In defiance of gravity, it filled from the top down, the water collecting in the top half of the sphere and expanding downwards instead of falling to the bottom and filling upwards. For a moment, as it finished filling, the globe hung there, a ball at least fifty metres across that was supported from above by a single impossible pillar arching across to its side from the water far below.

 _‘Um,’_ commented Vesta from the apparently empty air beside her mistress.

The stillness didn’t last. A flash of light and a gleam of fast-moving violet caught the eye as something shot up the pillar and into the globe, swinging into a rapid orbit around the centre as if drawn their by some magnetic force. Following the motion of the Jewel Seed, the entire globe began to swirl, dark currents of indigo light winding outward from the blurred ring within to circle the spinning ball of water.

And as the diffuse streams of colour touched the outside, in five different places, the sides of the globe bulged and erupted. Five more pillars arched up and then down again to the surface, touching down with a crash of water and throwing up spray and surf where they landed. Without hesitation, the stains began to flow down them as well, ceasing to spread only when it reached the bases of the pillars.

No, Nanoha realised. Not pillars. Legs. It looked like an enormous spider, squatting hunched over the water, its body swirling with dark and deadly currents.

And yet it did nothing more. No activity, no motion stirred the mighty legs or rotund body. Dark violet liquid dribbled down from the base of the sphere, hissing and sending up acrid clouds of steam where it hit the water below, but apart from that, the spider-monster seemed slack and unresponsive. It was a stark contrast to the active rampages of most Jewel Seeds.

“It worked!” shouted Nanoha triumphantly. “It’s stunned, we have an opening!” She whooped with glee. “You rule, Fate-chan!”

The words had barely left her mouth when the monster stirred. Its motions were sluggish and jerky, and it appeared to still be incapable of attacking. But movement was not beyond it, and the enormous leg-pillars moved fluidly over the water, drawing the globular body away from the girls.

And towards land.

“Ahh! No! Bad Jewel Seed spider thingy! Come back here!” A chill sped down Nanoha’s spine as she remembered how the paper dragon had headed for the edge of the barrier. Could this one break out of the dimensionally shifted battlefield if it made it over there? She didn’t want to find out, and sped off in pursuit, though Fate outstripped her with ease. Two lightning binds encircling the creature’s back legs halted its progress, though its attempts to move forward regardless jerked Fate at least a dozen metres forward before she caught and braced herself against the pull.

Nanoha came to a halt closer, a casting circle springing to life beneath her feet as Arf added her own chains to help her mistress. Levelling her staff at the centre of the monster, she called on the sun-like core of power within her. It responded eagerly, warming her with its inner light as it surged through muscle and vein to obey her call.

[Divine Buster,] announced Raising Heart, and the onslaught of pink light blasted forth. Narrowly missing one of the trapped legs, it struck the globe cleanly, penetrating the side and punching through towards the Seed. The currents swirled and eddied. And then the beam _twisted_ , veering off to the right and coming apart in a plume of pink that spread out and vanished into the dark currents.

“No!” cried Nanoha angrily. She could see what had happened. The mana in the twisting currents had diverted the attack, pushing it sideways even as they unravelled it. The Jewel Seed’s power had disrupted the tightly concentrated nature of the beam, pulling the mana within apart like the separate threads of a string. Bereft of its structure, it had diffused and vanished into the rest of the magic orbiting the centre of the globe.

 _‘I can’t shoot through it!’_ she broadcast. _‘The currents rip the beam apart!’_

Something blurred past her, something large and feral. Arf looked back over her shoulder as she charged towards the looming titan. _‘I have an idea!’_ she shouted. _‘Keep it occupied! Try and snare the legs, or shoot them off! I need it to be distracted for this to work!_

Well. That, she could handle nicely. Watching as Arf circled up and around the central orb, Nanoha turned her attention to the nearest leg, snapping out a series of Restrict Lock binds around it. The force of the pull surprised her – despite having seen Fate be jerked forwards and bracing herself accordingly, she still hadn’t been prepared for the sheer strength the creature could bring to bear. It was lucky, she realised, that it couldn’t attack yet. Gritting her teeth, she snapped another set of binds around one of the legs that Fate was holding, and levelled Raising Heart at one of the ones towards the front of the monster. Concentrating, she pulled up one of the new spell templates she’d been playing with recently, and fired.

[Divine Shooter Special,] chimed Raising Heart, volleying forth half a dozen pink balls that shot off in blurs of light. As large as the monster was, even without its sluggish reactions and the binds that were just barely holding it in place, it had no chance to dodge. The pink balls sank home into the water and almost instantly began to dissolve.

Which was exactly as intended. As the mana within the shooting spells was washed away, the secondary spell hidden within each one activated. Six explosions ran out, spraying water far and wide, and with a sound like the thundering crash of a waterfall, the leg she had hit detached. Thousands of gallons of water fell, sending up plumes of sea spray where they landed. The monster’s entire frame staggered and leaned, taken off-balance by the loss of one of its supports.

Arf saw her chance, and took it. Folding a triple-layered barrier around herself, she howled and threw herself into the water, the barriers expanding as she plunged in to open up a tunnel for her. It closed behind her as she darted in, moving with all the speed she had inherited from her mistress. The currents churned and spun as bolt after bolt of golden lightning plunged into her path, disrupting the lethal tides of magic to allow her through. Even so, her outermost shield was almost gone by the time she reached the centre of the sphere. The violet acid ate at the planes of orange light, etching microscopic flaws into them and eating away at the condensed magic that kept it away from her body. As her shields bulged out to encompass the spinning Seed, the outermost layer shattered, and the acid rushed in to hit the second one.

The Seed was moving fast enough that it looked more like a blurred ring than a single object. Arf didn’t bother with subtlety. A bark, and a barrier appeared in its path closest to where she was passing. The obstacle was smashed as soon as the orbiting Seed hit it, but the brief pause was enough. Arf’s head dipped sideways as she passed, jaws gaping wide, and she plucked the Lost Logia from the air with a single smooth motion. A spherical shield around the artefact prevented her teeth from actually touching the thing, and the two bubbles keeping the acid back from her retreated to their former size.

Mission accomplished, Arf poured on the speed and headed for the glimmer of light that spelled safety, illuminated by the gold and pink bolts still punching through it with devastating force. And in the latter case, exploding. A bloody-red tunnel carved itself towards her as Vesta opened up further rents in the liquid, burrowing in to give her a way out. But Arf’s second barrier was already wavering, and it suffered the same fate as the first as she drew away from the centre.

The spider-monster teetered madly as she flew. Already off-balance due to the loss of a leg, it was destabilised further still by the theft of its very core. With only a single barrier still protecting her body from the hissing acid and no concentration to make more, Arf barrelled into the relative safety of the tunnel. Seeing her safe, Vesta turned tail and raced towards the water’s edge, with the wolf scant inches behind her. The globe seemed to crack and split across its surface, leaking hundreds of streams of the tainted water to send up foul-smelling clouds of steam from the ocean, made worse by the shooting spells that tore apart the remaining currents and lit her path out.

As the shockwave from one particularly close explosion buffeted them sideways, Arf reflected that she would be having _words_ with Nanoha about how to put her new spells to use properly.

Finally, as her last barrier wavered and died, the familiars exploded out from the side of the sphere. Shedding the disintegrating cocoon as she emerged into the air again and yelping as a few droplets of acid splashed and burned into her fur, Arf released the Jewel Seed in a mighty throw. It gleamed as it tumbled through the air, catching the dull light of the barrier’s sky as it wrote a high arc towards the girls.

Nanoha turned and aimed carefully. But there was no real need. She could have made the shot in her sleep.

[Jewel Seed III sealed,] declared Raising Heart with a hint of satisfaction, drawing it into the ruby-red core. Behind Nanoha and Fate, the bleeding remnants of the monster collapsed bonelessly. Another wave rolled out, and the salty spray thrown up by the cascading waters reached them even as high as they were. Nanoha joyfully shook her head and wiped the dampness off her cheeks, grinning happily.

“Well done,” Fate congratulated her. “And well done Arf. That was incredible.”

“Yeah! That was amazing, Arf!” Nanoha was breathing a little hard, but her eyes gleamed with excitement and admiration. “I wish I’d thought of something like that!”

Arf preened slightly under the attention. _‘Well, you know,’_ she explained with false modesty. _‘Shooting it wasn’t working, so someone obviously had to get it out for you to…’_

 _‘Wait,’_ interrupted Vesta. _‘Wait, wait. Wait. That was way too easy.’_

Arf’s expression, even on a canine face, was more than adequate to convey sheer incredulity. _‘Easy?’_ she repeated, her voice higher than usual in disbelief. _‘That was_ easy? _’_

 _‘Yeah… well, no, but… argh. That’s not what I meant. It… it still went really well, is what I’m saying! The TSAB haven’t even shown up yet. And we caught it while it was weak like we planned, and everything’s going perfectly, and…’_ she trailed off at the odd looks she was getting. _‘Look, I’m just saying! Of all the plans we’ve made that could have gone wrong, this one should have been at the top of the list! And it’s going off without a hitch!’_

Thunder rumbled, interrupting her. A brief, uneasy silence fell.

“Um. Fate-chan. I thought there was no weather inside dimensional barriers?” said Nanoha tentatively. Fate nodded slowly, red eyes wide, her ponytails swaying with the movement.

“Then… um…”

The noise came again. Closer, this time. Louder. Enough that they could pinpoint the direction it was coming from.

Four heads turned down, with terrible slowness, to track the source of the rolling thunder. Thunder that was coming from beneath the ocean surface.

Deep below the waves, where sunlight was dim and the waters were cold, something stirred. Seabed murk cascaded off a hulking shape, ice crackling around it to displace hundreds of tonnes of water as it rose towards the distant surface.

And light bloomed, in pelagic darkness.

…

“Hmm.” Lindy leaned forwards, her hands laced together in front of her face. On the screen before her, one vast leg was blown off the creature by the Takamachi girl’s explosive shooting spells. It lost cohesion as it fell, reaching the surface as nothing more than a small lake’s worth of tainted water. The colour lightened as it diffused into the ocean, and was soon nothing but a faint violet tinge to the water.

“Oh my,” she frowned. “I hope that’s not going to pollute the bay.” She sighed. “Ah well. Nothing to be done now. Oh, hello.” She raised an eyebrow as the wolf-familiar leapt forwards, obviously communicating something to the others before charging at the monster. “And what are you doing, hmm?” Lindy murmured softly.

“Admiral,” called Amy from the bridge. “Investigator Alpine reports that she’s hardened the barrier.”

“Ah, wonderful,” said Lindy happily. “Could you patch me through to the groundside team, please?”

The connection clicked open, and she began without preamble. “Alright, the girls seem to have chosen to force our hand,” she stated, “awakening the remaining Jewel Seeds forcibly like this.” Checking the screen again, she raised both eyebrows as the wolf wrapped herself in barriers and plunged _into_ the body of the Seed’s manifestation. From how the liquid had been reacting on contact with the water below, Lindy didn’t like to think about what it would do to living flesh.

“It’s actually not that bad a plan,” she allowed, with a hint of grudging respect. “They’ll be in a fugue state for a few minutes after activating like that. Long enough for them to seal one, though the resultant manifestation will be more powerful if they don’t manage to get it sealed.” But indeed, as the tigress and wolf burst out of the side of the sphere in a spray of acid, it seemed as though they’d succeeded regardless. Lindy didn’t like the necessity of sacrificing this Jewel Seed, but she liked the risk of the girls escaping again even less. This time, with Alpine’s additions to the barrier, they weren’t going to be able to flee.

“However,” she continued briskly, “they don’t seem to have realised how difficult it will be to seal the remaining four. They might be capable of- sorry, no,” she corrected as the thin pink beam struck true, “they _have_ managed to seal one, but they’re already tired. The next one will likely be too much for them, and if not, the one after that certainly will be.” She smiled cheerfully, in much the same way that a large apex predator would upon being confronted with a prey animal that had helpfully tied itself up for convenience.

“So, we’re going to step in and help them out! And then bring them in for a nice long lecture on deliberately activating Lost Logia that they don’t understand, even if it was with the intention of sealing them. Investigator Alpine, Scyra-san, you’ve hardened the barrier?”

“More or less,” came the reply. The faintest trace of strain was audible in Megane’s voice, though very well hidden. “I’m not sure it would stand up to more than one of those wide-area bombardment spells she broke the last one with. But with Scrya’s help in setting the initial hardening in place, I can hold it against the first. That should give you long enough to subdue them.”

Lindy frowned. “Are you sure you can handle this? I’m concerned enough about you being down there at all, but holding the barrier is…”

“You don’t have anyone else that can do it,” Megane stated bluntly. “You’re needed on the ship, Lanster isn’t strong enough, Scrya and your son have the skill but not the raw power yet and Zest and Quint are both needed in combat. I will hold the barrier. It’s not as if my team will let the girl fire off another one of those bombardment spells anyway, and nothing short of that will have a chance of breaking out.”

The idea of sending a heavily pregnant woman into strenuous combat irked Lindy, and she frowned. But she couldn’t deny the summoner’s logic. Annoyed, she waved her hand in acquiescence. “Fine,” she sighed. “But I’m ordering you not to take any major risks to your health. If by some catastrophe she does manage to fire a second shot, don’t try to hold the barrier. Let it fall. They can’t hide on the ocean, your teammates can pursue them if necessary.”

There was a quiet, tense pause before Megane replied, her voice steely. “Acknowledged,” she gritted. “Now can we start?”

“Yes.” Lindy snapped back to business. “All units, prepare to engage. Remember, the girls are trapped and already tired, so our first priority is the Jewel Seeds. Bind them and get them out of the way, leave a guard on them. But sealing the Lost Logia is your main objective. Understood?”

As the affirmative replies came back, the monitors squalled briefly. Then again, louder.

Then they _shrieked_.

“Amy!” Lindy shouted. “What’s happening?”

“A… a cascade, Admiral!” The girl was clearly frightened, but putting a brave face on it, and Lindy spared a second for a note of pride in her crew. “The… I think one of the Seeds was preparing to activate when they forced the first one! It was in a passive state, and soaked up the mana! Now it’s started to awaken, and it’s pulling the others on line all at once! We’re not going to be fighting one Seed, we’re going to be fighting all four of them!” She turned, looking to Lindy desperately. “It took in all the energy from that fight,” she breathed, terrified. “It’s going to be a _monster_.”

Lindy wasn’t looking at her bridge staff, though. She was dead white, her expression a mask of horror. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, and what was surfacing from the ocean below the girls.

“All units, _move!_ ” she screamed. “Get in there! Don’t bother with the girls, ignore them! _Stop that thing!_ ”

But even as the earth-bound teams leapt into action, she couldn’t stifle a terrible feeling that they were already too late.

…

First came the thunder, low and booming from deep underwater, punctuated by the gut-wrenching activation of a Jewel Seed. It did not feel like it had been activated forcibly. Nor did it feel in any way weak. Then came the silence.

The disappearance of the waves was the first sign. Across the vast expanse of the harbour that had fallen within the confines of the dimensional barrier, the turbulence and choppiness of the surface died away. Waves became wavelets, wavelets became ripples. Within a few seconds even the ripples were gone, leaving the sea still, silent and mirror-smooth. Not a breath of wind disturbed the calm tableau, nor did anything move on the flat water. The effect was profoundly unnerving, and Nanoha shivered.

And then light pulsed in the navy depths, fathoms down, as another shockwave of magic hammered the watching quartet. Sickly violet light shone through the seawater and rose, casting pallid radiance from the ocean floor. And illuminating something _huge_. Thunder boomed again and magic pulsed. Another light bloomed in concert, revealing an enormous shadow shifting and rising from the ocean floor. The details of the thing were impossible to make out, only the long, smooth shape and the enormous size. It must have been more than a hundred metres long if it was an inch, and while smaller than the spider-monster, it possessed a horrible solidity that the vast liquid construct hadn’t.

The surface of the harbour began to boil as the first of the phosphorescent lights reached it. Purple bubbles frothed and churned, turning the waters into seething foam that spat and steamed angrily. Motes of light rose from the boiling surf, forming a glowing haze that clung close to the water and coiled tendril-like around itself.

The fourth Seed woke with a violent shudder, and a third light rose from the depths. The shadow circled it, rising upwards as the second bubble reached the air and followed the way of the first. Nanoha and Fate glanced at each other, their faces pale and their grips tightening on their devices. Arf’s lips were pulled back in a silent snarl and the fur all down her back was bristling. Vesta keened from empty air, high and anxious.

“F-Fate-chan?” whispered Nanoha shakily, her eyes huge and fearful. “What’s… happening?”

Fate didn’t answer. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were trembling.

 _‘Fate-chan?’_ whined Arf, turning in mixed concern and fear to check on the girl.

A moaning dirge rang out, joining the sounds of the bubbling, seething water in what was otherwise a relative hush. It trilled and warbled, modulating from low to high in unsettling chords that set the hair on the back of the neck on end and stirred nausea in the belly. The bubbling at the surface intensified and the mist thickened. It wasn’t hot, though. No, ice crystals and strange, lopsided snowflakes were formed at the interface between water and air, drifting up into the clouds of vapour and sublimating into motes of light that added to the mists. This boil was cold. Freezing, even. A cold so deep it burned.

And finally, yielding to inevitability, the shadow surfaced. Water poured off a dark gunmetal hull, rimed with gnarled indigo ice and seabed murk. Barnacles crusted the surface, and jagged rents were filled by what looked like greyish coral. Wet plant matter writhed like living animals between overgrown shells that pulsed with light from within, and disgorged clouds of glowing icy vapour.

“… I know what that is,” whispered Nanoha, shock briefly overtaking horror. “That’s the submarine that sank offshore in the war.” She gave this a second’s thought, and horror resurfaced. “Fate, that’s a _submarine!_ A whole submarine! How do we fight a submarine?!”

It was a good question, and one that Fate didn’t have an answer to. The submarine was more than a hundred metres long, ice and bedrock extending far past the hull to turn the sleek lines of the deadly craft into a monstrous behemoth from the depths. It looked like some sort of nightmarish whale, mutated and plated in metal and hoarfrost until its previous form was almost unrecognisable. Broken and rusted metal bulged grotesquely, like something organic, making the machine-cetacean seem almost pregnant with horror.

Through it all, the wailing tune sang, pulling atavistic dread from the hindbrain. A wave of displaced water rolled out as the thing surfaced, and the glowing mist rippled as it passed, drawing in to cling to the hull and coil possessively around the gun turrets. Fate tasted bitter salt in the spray thrown up, and felt the build-up of power surge outward from the monstrosity itself, into the surrounding water. Which once again began to boil.

“Move!” Fate grabbed Nanoha’s arm and hauled the native girl with her as she put more distance between them and the submarine. Arf kept pace unquestioningly and the air rippled as Vesta loosened her hold on the illusion in favour of speed.

A pregnant pause followed her retreat, and then the water around the vessel exploded. Twisters of water exploded from the hissing froth, whirling columns that condensed down as she watched into long tendrils of indigo-black liquid. Suckers drifted around on the spinning currents and cruel barbs formed lethal rings where they were attached as they rotated like living saws. The shifting, hypnotic dance of the appendages as they writhed and lashed made it hard to tell how many there were, but Fate counted at least ten, and maybe as many as twenty or so. She gulped. Acid burned the back of her throat as she struggled not to throw up in fear, and try as she might, she couldn’t keep her hands from shaking. She had fought Jewel Seeds before, but nothing like this. Nanoha was scarcely in any better condition, and both of the Familiars were keening in instinctual terror.

“What the hell is that?” came a new voice from behind them. All four whirled, the familiars snarling, the girls raising their Devices. They had been focused on the disaster beneath them that they had failed to notice Chrono’s approach. The Enforcer barely flinched, though. Indeed, he barely seemed to notice, fixated as he was on what was happening below them. Yuuno flew up beside him, wrenching his gaze up to look at the girls with an effort.

“Truce!” he explained hastily. “Truce, truce. We’re hardly going to fight you with that thing on the loose. How did it activate so violently? It should be in a stupor, not doing that!”

“The Admiral says that one of the Seeds must have been about to activate anyway,” Quint called, approaching them along with Zest and Tiida. “It just soaked up all the power you girls threw at the sea, instead of being forced awake!” She drew level with the small group, her expression worried. “This is going to be a tough one,” she muttered. “Zest? Any ideas?”

The huge man replied by way of telepathy, allowing everyone to hear him as he spoke. _‘Megane,’_ he ordered brusquely, _‘see if you can locate where the Seeds are. We need to concentrate our fire on them directly if we’re going to seal them.’_ He looked over to Nanoha, frowning heavily. “I understand you’re good at search magic? Same goes for you, and anyone else who has an aptitude for it. We need those locations. Testarossa, Takamachi, once we have them, fire everything you can at the Seeds. Lanster, Harloawn, Scrya; see if you can do something about those tendrils. Quint, you’re with me, we’re going in to retrieve the Seeds once they’re sealed.” He fixed Nanoha and Fate with an iron stare. “I don’t care what reasons you have for opposing us, and I don’t care what fights you’ve had with the Bureau before now. Megane is holding the barrier, but if this thing gets loose, everything within half a dozen dimensions is gone. So you will _follow my orders_ , do you understand?”

Pale and shaking, they nodded. Quint floated up beside them, giving them a reassuring smile. “Try not to be scared,” she encouraged. “We’ll get through this in one piece, we just have to be smart about it. Then we can sort out everything else later.” She eyed the submarine below. “Hmm. It doesn’t seem to be… ah, here we go.”

Across the ice and mud that slathered the submarine itself, across the coral tracery that held the bulging sections together and the gelatinous liquid of the twister-tendrils, eyes were opening. Some were horribly human, ten or twenty times larger than normal but still recognisably similar to the eyes of a normal person off the street. Others were more like those of fish or squid, with huge pupils and odd colouring. All of them were alert and active, flicking this way and that to check every direction.

A rather worrying number were fixed on the small group in the sky.

With a roar that could be felt reverberating down to the very bone, the long-submerged engines of the craft juddered to life and it began a slow but inexorable advance toward the open ocean. The path it had chosen took it past the group of mages, and the tendrils, sprouting more spines and hooks by the second, lashed out at them.

“Scatter!” shouted Zest, and the group exploded into desperate motion. The first of the enormous tendrils lashed through the space they had occupied mere seconds before, and then everything became chaos as the battle was joined.

…

Nanoha tumbled sideways as the monstrous limb blew by. Fighting for altitude, she felt warm fur under her hand and clung to it gratefully, slinging an arm around Vesta’s neck as the tigress helped her stabilise. She looked for Fate, and found her with Yuuno and the redheaded teenager, already moving away. She made to follow them, but an unwelcome and familiar figure darted into her path to stop her.

“No,” said Chrono. “If we all cluster together, it makes us easier to hit. Look.” He nodded to where Zest and Quint were making a cautious approach to the creature, circling lower and dodging the tentacles. “They’re fine, too. Stick to small groups.” He paused for a second. “Is your familiar nearby?”

From his expression, the feral growl that came from directly behind him wasn’t entirely unexpected. _‘Yes,’_ snarled Vesta, _‘and if you do anything to hurt my mistress…’_

“Right now, that thing is my only priority,” he gritted out in response. “You have search magic? Use it.” He swooped a little lower and turned his back on them, apparently trusting them not to attack it. Which was a fair assumption, Nanoha had to admit. She was hardly going to divide their energy in a situation like this. Bringing her attention to bear on Raising Heart, she threw out a spray of searching spells and ordered them towards the hulking behemoth.

Another tendril swung at them. Despite the size of the things, they were terrifyingly fast. Nanoha and Vesta shot upwards to avoid it, but Chrono lingered for a second. Swift motions set a blue casting circle in the air before him, and he barely managed to get out of the way in time. His reasons for risking it became apparent as the liquid mass swung through the area he had been. It had barely gone a few more metres when the trap spell activated and the entire thing shuddered. Cold blue motes spread through the body of the tendril, freezing a section almost a metre thick into solid ice. Not the dark purple ice that coated the ship, either, a clear blue that it couldn’t seem to control. Stinger bolts knocked gaping chunks out of it, and as Nanoha caught on, her Divine Shooters quickly helped quarry out the rest.

Like a falling tower, the amputated tendril fell back down to the sea, smashing into the water and dissolving. The ice-encrusted stub hissed and fumed as the liquid melted it. It didn’t regenerate its lost length, though, and Nanoha was briefly cheered.

Briefly.

Until she saw what was forming on the amputated surface.

“Ahh!” she shrieked, ducking downwards barely fast enough to avoid a razor-edged disc of indigo ice. A Divine Shooter shattered the next one, and the gnarled barb that followed disintegrated under blood-red claws as Vesta intervened in her defence. The stub had become a veritable forest of bristling projectiles spitting deadly hail at the mages, from poison barbs to acid. It was with an unspoken accord that both Nanoha and Chrono swooped away from it, dropping lower to avoid the whip-like ends of the tendrils. But the effect wasn’t confined just to the stub. All the tentacles began to shoot out at the gnats that buzzed around them, even extruding smaller tendrils from themselves to lash and snare.

“Come on, come on…” muttered Nanoha, as her search spell danced and jittered over the glistening surface of the submarine. “Come on, find them…” She twisted sideways as Vesta slashed an arm-thick whip in half, and bent double to avoid a spinning bone flail. Veering and dodging frantically, she navigated a clear path through a sky full of missiles as Vesta batted, blocked and parried those they couldn’t avoid.

Raising Heart snapped up an automatic barrier, and a heavy impact glanced off it. Nanoha spun around as Vesta sliced some sort of blade-encrusted flying fish the size of a small dog in half. She stared in confusion at the dark blue, frozen lump falling away. If that was an attack, it hadn’t been nearly as lethal as she would have expected.

Chrono answered her unspoken question by dropping down and flash-freezing another ball of acid as it was launched toward them. “Be more careful,” was all he said before soaring away to frost over the nearest tendril in ice that it thrashed and flailed to escape from.

 _‘I have one,’_ announced Megane, and a violet flare marked a spot two thirds of the way down the hull, near the torn metal rent in the hull.

 _‘And another,’_ added Yuuno, seconds later, illuminating it. Nanoha pulled away from Chrono, who was occupying himself in freezing off more of the tendrils. They were putting up a fight, spitting ice and acid at him, but he seemed to be enjoying a certain amount of success. The pistol-user had joined him, and a stream of red bullets was punching huge holes in everything that Chrono froze.

Bearing down with her will, a pink flash marked the third Jewel Seed as her spell succeeded. _‘There!’_ she cried, in harmony with the more subdued tone Megane broadcast the fourth with. With all four Seeds found and marked, the tone of the fight shifted. What had before been buying time was now a proper contest, as the mages struggled to seal the Lost Logia. Magic flared, Devices charged and tiny figures soared and corkscrewed through the sky as the vast twister-tendrils lashed at them furiously.

But they weren’t the only ones who had changed their tactics.

Nanoha had no warning and no way to dodge. The only thing that saved her was Vesta. With reflexes that only a cat or a demon could lay claim to, she saw the shape launch out of the nearest tendril at her mistress and raced to interpose herself in its path, roaring a frantic warning. Turning to see what it was, Nanoha found a humanoid form bearing down on her, glowing eyes blazing in a bare skull overtaken by shell and coral.

It had once been human. Now, it was as much sealife as skeleton. The tattered rags of the uniform it wore were rotted almost to the point of unrecognisability, but she didn’t need to see past the spurs of coral that held bone together or the flesh-like tentacle that encased its entire right arm to know what it was. Before its vessel had sunk, this had been one of the crew. Now it was as much of a monster as its ship.

She shrieked, rocketing backwards as fast as she could managed, but not fast enough to avoid the questing, sucker-laden arm that it flung at her. Prehensile hooks chattered between the pores as it shot towards her face.

Then a quarter-tonne tigress hit it squarely in the back.

Vesta screamed in fury, ripping into the revenant with savagery beyond anything Nanoha had seen her use before. The impact she hit it with caved in the thing’s ribcage from behind, heedless of the coral-hard substance that reinforced it. A paw sprouting claws of bloody crimson tore its right arm off completely, and four-inch fangs crunched into its skull, cracking the bone like plywood. Bracing herself with a claw through its chest, she _wrenched_ , ripping the head loose to hang by mere scraps of seaweed and releasing a plume of tainted water from what was left of its neck.

Giving it one last furious slash that opened up the corpse’s torso from shoulder to hip, Vesta let it drop like a rag doll. It fell apart as it fell, the animating magic having been released as the damage became too great, and was swallowed by the ocean soundlessly.

 _‘Let’s get some more distance before you start shooting,’_ she suggested, ducking a spray of acid from the tendril that had launched the monster and motioning away. Her heart hammering, Nanoha nodded and followed wordlessly.

…

“No no _no_ no no no help no _no_ …”

Yuuno kept up a quiet, muttered litany as he ducked and dived for his life. Four of the tendrils on his side of the submarine were immobilised, chained together and tethered to the water or to barrier-walls rooted in the sky.

The ones that were still free did not appear to appreciate this fact.

Acid hissed and spat from drooling mouths and dribbling eyes, eating away at his barriers. Gnarled spears of ice shot forth from glossy liquid and splintered against shield after shield. Claws, spines, suckers, barbs – it seemed as though every deadly or dangerous appendage in the ocean was being turned against him in a hail of living missiles.

And that was discounting the tendrils themselves. Whip-like, one of them crashed down on him now. Yuuno thrust his Device forward and wrapped himself in a double-layer of shields, sacrificing the first one to the impact in order to prevent himself from being knocked back. The shattered remnants of the barrier swung around, wrapping the huge appendage up in a glowing green manacle locked to Yuuno’s protective bubble.

 _‘Now!’_ he shouted, and Fate Testarossa dropped down from the heavens. The black tip of her Device flashed gold, and a huge bolt of lightning leapt from it into one of the liquid maws. The effect was blinding, lighting up most of the tendril with white-gold fire as the electricity burned and crackled through the tendril cruelly. With a dying wail, it lost cohesion and collapsed, raining down harmlessly.

Yuuno allowed himself a second to breathe, and tried to remember what bizarre chain of events had led him to be working with the girl who until recently he had been fighting against. Even having lived it, it seemed ridiculous. Maybe… maybe he was just working with Nanoha, and she happened to be working with the blonde girl. Was that a better way to think of it?

But there was no time to ponder the absurdity of the situation, he had work to do. Moving along towards the next tendril, he added his own binds to the orange ones already snaring it. The wolf-familiar was, he realised, actually using her binds to pull the captured tendril into the one next to it. Slamming them together with vicious force, she was using one of the monster’s own limbs to attack others. It was an effective tactic, if brutal, and Yuuno was reluctantly impressed.

It was a fortuitous tactic, too. Fortuitous, because it meant that Arf and Fate had the situation under control. And that meant that Yuuno was looking around to see where he could better apply his efforts when the monster made its next move. Even as Nanoha’s scream rang out faintly over the crash of conflict and Arf’s roar marked another attack behind him, Yuuno was reacting. Not to the revenants, though. To something subtler.

The guns of the submarine were old. They were rusted. Time and the sea had not been kind to them, and many had been patched up by the muddy sand and sludge from the harbour floor, or what looked like scrap metal culled from smaller wrecks. But despite their condition, they were turning. Aiming.

Firing.

The guns spoke thunder, and Yuuno dropped like a stone. With all his power and concentration thrust into hasty shields, his flight spells withered and died. There simply wasn’t enough processing power to hold both, even with a Device to aid him. The force of the cannon fire was tremendous, stronger even than such mass weapons should have inflicted, and he felt at least three of his barriers ripped away. He flailed as he fell, but only briefly. Warm arms wrapped around him from behind, and he trusted their owner to keep them in the air as he turned his attention to the shields. Four of the icy shells had exploded, biting spheres out of existence as had the one so long ago, at the hot springs. Those were the ones he had felt ripped away from him so suddenly.

Others hadn’t. He quickly abandoned two barriers, allowing the liquid nets that had ensnared them to fall away rather than let them keep draining power from the shield. Another had been drenched in an acid powerful enough that it was eating through the shield at a rate of knots. With a flick of his fingers, he sent it soaring towards the gun that had fired it. The barrel crumpled with a satisfying shriek of tortured metal, and he turned his attention to the last two. One of them was covered with mutated sealife, bloated octopi and warped things that must once have been fish clinging to it and gnawing at the surface. Or stabbing it with spines that were undoubtedly poisoned. The other, he was disturbed to see, had been aimed at him, and had…

“They’re like the things from the hospital,” came a voice from behind him as he stared at the skeletal shape clambering around the green barrier. He twisted his head to look. It had been Testarossa who had caught him. He hadn’t even seen her move. “I think they must have been the crew, before… before,” she explained. She released him, letting him re-establish his flight spells and find his footing in the air again. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “That was well-caught. I didn’t even see it coming.” She scanned the skies, looking for the rest of the mages. “Did any of them get through?”

“No. But we need to take care of the guns.” He winced as more barrels came to bear on them. “Have you done enough damage to the tentacles?”

“I hope so,” said Fate, her eyes on the ship. More and more guns were springing up across the dark mass of the ship. Some weren’t the original weapons of the ship, either. Crystalline things of purple ice and coral, or pulsing, living organs. All of them had one thing in common; their lethality.

“Arf, keep going,” she called over to her familiar. Then turned grimly to Yuuno. “It’ll have to be enough,” she decided. “Come on.”

They fell, blazing. And the guns roared a lethal retort.

…

Quint resembled a dark blue comet as she wove through the rain of gunfire. The Wing Road trailing behind her looked like Swiss cheese, with holes punched through it by the brutal assault until there was barely anything of the path left. She was forced to use every trick in her considerable experience to survive as she skimmed close to the surface, towards one of the Seeds Megane had marked.

A gun emplacement she passed crumpled under her fist. A casual backhand caved in the chest of one of the skeletal crew. Ice shattered, coral broke and steel was rent asunder by her terrible strength.

But there was always more.

A wave of bombardments battered the surface from above. Green barriers rushed the guns and crushed them, electric death smashed into the structure and sent debris and bodies flying in equal quantity. Glancing up, Quint saw the Testarossa girl and Scrya coming around for another pass. Explosions on her right and a series of pink glows told of Takamachi entering the fight on a closer level as well. And yet it still wasn’t enough.

The layer of ice and sealife covering the surface bulged in response to the raking fire that was ripping it away. A mass of protective armour grew tumour-like over the Jewel Seed, and though lightning and pink light sent filthy steam hissing up from it, it did nothing to break it open. A glance behind her at Zest showed that the other Seeds were adopting the same bunker tactics.

A crashing howl of splintered ice and sundered steel announced Zest’s solution to the problem. Smirking, Quint risked another glance to confirm that yes; he had simply split the layers of armour in half. They were trying to grow back and bridge the rift, but the big man was already in the chasm he had opened up, his spear spinning in a howling flurry of blows that opened up huge craters in whatever it touched.

“Zest’s favourite way to deal with an obstacle,” she murmured to herself, chuckling as she leant sideways almost parallel to the ground to avoid a hail of ice fletchettes. A hairpin change of direction left a revenant leaping headfirst into her rollerblade, followed by a jump to let a stream of acid pass harmlessly by underneath her. “Don’t bother looking for a way round it, just go straight through. Well, that’s fine for him, but I’m going for the easier route.”

Another change of direction. And the bonus of this one was that it would get the annoying guns behind her to stop shooting at her back. Not many shots had got through, but the few that had were _stinging_ , even through her armour. Her new tactic, though, rendered them almost useless.

Twisting through ninety degrees in barely more than a bodylength, Quint darted _down_.

The steel hull of the submarine was several inches thick. It put up no more resistance to Quint’s blow than cardboard. It exploded inwards with bomb-like force, and everything in the corridor was shredded instantly by shrapnel. Quint dropped into the hole, allowing the Wing Road to fade behind her as she took to the new terrain with ease. Her fighting style was almost built to operate in close quarters, and she used it to the full.

Throwing a punch that send a blue ripple forwards with bone-breaking force, she leapt over the starfish-draped revenant that it struck and rode up on a wall to turn the corner. The inside of the sub was no less affected by the Seeds than the outside, though. Acid-spitting plant-life dangled from the ceiling, barnacles crusted the walls and threw out strings of sticky fluid or bullet-like shell fragments. Warped monsters flapped and lunged from the floor and revenants moved with surprising speed to grab her.

Quint threw another ranged punch, and another, and another. Soon, she had a barrage of pressure strikes preceding her, denting the corridor walls and pulverising anything in her path as she proceeded in a roughly straight line through the submarine’s innards. Walls broke apart with mana-boosted kicks, and those revenants that managed to grab her were taken care of with flares of blue force that reduced them to little more than bags of soup or powder.

It did not take her long to carve a tunnel of devastation to directly under the Seed.

“Sorry Zest!” she shouted with fierce glee, half aloud and half telepathically. “But first blood’s mine!” Her right arm blazed with light, runic rings wrapping around it in preparation for one of her strongest attacks.

She skidded to a halt, and heard the sound of rushing water approaching even as she struck.

…

Freeze. Dodge. Shoot. Kill.

It was an aerial dogfight like nothing Chrono had ever seen before. The guns roared and the tendrils lashed. Mages darted around the lumbering behemoth of the sea and a deadly hail of projectiles flew between the two. Only four or five of its huge appendages remained, but they were growing harder and harder to snare. Chrono ducked and dived, throwing himself through the air to avoid the projectiles that filled the sky like gnats. Exploding spheres, leeching nets, bursts of acid and living monsters shared space with barbs, spines, frozen bullets and chunks of shell that were smaller and simpler but no less lethal. The crack and roar of the occasional detonation wove through the thunder of bombardment spells and the churning sound of the engines to produce a raucous cacophony of noise.

Chrono swooped low over the submarine, Stinger bolts flanking him in parallel rings. His Device lashed out again and again, freezing guns, revenants and sea beasts into frosty statues. Statues that shattered into chunks as hundreds of glowing blades rained down on them. He swerved round a tendril’s grasping suckers, each larger than he was, and unleashed a Blaze Cannon into its base. The plume of blue-edged white flame seared through the glutinous mess and left the vast construct collapsing on the hulk it came from. 

Gripping S2U in hands that shook from stress and exhaustion, Chrono signalled Lanster and headed towards the back of the ship, intent on seeing if he could slow it down. Maybe if he froze the propellers, or got one of the girls to fire something strong enough at it…

A split second flare of light warned him, and he rolled out of the way and got a barrier up just as one of the bunkers exploded. A human form shot out of it in a burst of blue magic, bare metres ahead of a geyser of tainted water that fountained up after her. But she had accomplished her goal. The oppressive aura faltered slightly as she sealed the Seed, and a figure wreathed in green barriers and chains lifted off from strafing the surface of the submarine and went to help her.

Another explosion echoed out as the bunker Zest was assaulting was punctured again, this time from the inside going outward. A deep orange lance punched through the layers of healed-over ice, bearing a shining gem before it, and the bunker disintegrated in a hail of debris as Zest split it apart from within, rising to seal the second as a second fountain rose behind him like spurting blood. Chrono smirked at the sight. The battle had been hard, and the monster was still putting up a fight. But it seemed to finally be turning in their favour. The bloated hulk of the submarine looked like it was growing smaller even as he watched.

No. Wait.

It was growing smaller. And not shrinking, but…

 _‘It’s diving!’_ he yelled. _‘It’s trying to get away! Stop it!’_ Wounded and diminished, the remaining two Seeds were finally choosing escape over battle. If it went under, there was no way they would be able to catch it. He rushed downwards, throwing out binds and chains to hook onto the surface and heaving against the inexorable force pulling it under. It was terrifyingly strong, though. His best efforts didn’t even slow it down. _‘Destroy the engines! Freeze it on the surface! Try to…’_

And then his blood ran cold as the fountains of tainted water that were vomiting forth from amidships stopped spraying wildly. In the blink of an eye, solidity flowed up their lengths and they formed into horribly familiar tendrils.

Zest disappeared with a thunderclap as the one nearest him lashed out, avoiding it by less than an arms-length and taking a spray of acid across the side for his troubles.

Quint and Yuuno weren’t quite so fast.

A bubble of green wrapped around them as the viscous limb struck, barely visible in the split-second before impact. With no time to prepare or brace themselves, the pair was sent rocketing down into the dark water and vanished from sight. The engines shook as the sub sank deeper, and the ice that buoyed if up broke off in vast slabs as it descended.

And on the edge of the barrier, Megane’s eyes widened.

_‘Quint!’_

…

Despite its strength, Chrono hadn’t consciously realised just how much magic there was in the air. It had built up slowly, gradually, and the oppressive force had become just one more part of the nightmarish background to the battle. It wasn’t until all of the mana drained out of the air that he realised how much there had been. Paling, he looked over at Nanoha, expecting to see vast pink rings spinning in preparation.

He did not.

But he did get a very good view of the summoning square that expanded out over the water until it was the size of a city block. And had a perfect vantage point to see the thing that rose up out of it.

And up. And up. And up.

 _‘Hakutenou,’_ Megane addressed her summon, her voice frighteningly weak, _‘destroy… urgh… the submarine. Immobilise it.’_

Hakutenou heard. Considered. Obeyed.

Wading forward through the deep harbour water, four violet wings of magic extending out behind it, the apex summon grappled the submarine as it tried to submerge, heaving it upwards against the pull of the engines. One of the tendrils lashed at its face, and the insect-god flinched as if struck by a whip.

It retaliated with a beam from its abdomen that punched clean through the submarine and out the other side. Both of the remaining Jewel Seeds screamed like a wounded animal, the tendrils crawling up around the summon and wrenching at its limbs. The acid, teeth and suckers of the tendrils were useless against the chitinous hide of the vast insect, and Hakutenou responded with brutal, deliberate blows that tore open the hull and ripped turrets off the surface like matchwood. It was a battle of giants, Hakutenou tearing ever deeper into the innards of its foe even as the submarine wrapped tendrils around the insect’s neck and tried to rip it off its shoulders.

On-shore, the backup team were trading worried looks as the woman they were meant to be protecting drew herself upright again. “Jiraio,” she whispered, as four summoning circles bloomed around her. “Come on. Come… argh… _on_.” A shape rose through one of them, huge and beetle-like, but it wavered as she brought a hand down to her belly, fluctuating dangerously. As Megane cried out and staggered, Mei swivelled quickly into place between her and the half-formed summon, ducking behind her shield and forcing magic into it.

It proved to be a good idea, as the thing exploded a moment later. Heidi flinched at the blast, and Rizu hurried over to Megane. A quick scan told her what she already suspected.

“Contractions,” she explained, looking up at her teammates. “The… the summoning must have brought them on. She’s going into labour.”

 _‘Then she’s coming up the medical bay,’_ ordered Lindy over the coms. _‘She- wait. Alpine, will that break the summon? I can send medics down, if you need to be there.’_

“No, it’s…” Megane winced, biting her lip hard and clenching Rizu’s hard until her knuckles went white as another contraction hit. “It’s… independent now,” she gasped. “It’ll do as it’s been ordered to, until it succeeds or is destroyed.”

 _‘Right, good. Then get her out of there, teleport them up to the medical bay. Now!’_ A circle surrounded the team as the teleport locked on, and a flash of white light marked their departure. The dimensional barrier flickered as its reinforcement faltered. Hakutenou barely paused in its struggles with the cetacean monster.

Chrono ignored it. There was nothing more he could realistically contribute to the fight now. Angling downwards, he dropped towards the water, sharp eyes picking out the pink search magic swirling beneath the surface. It was beginning to cluster together in one location above the downed mages, and he aimed for the brightest part of the grouping.

Plunging into cold water was not pleasant. Even with a barrier jacket on, holding the water away from his body, it was not fun. But once he was under, it was easier to see the slowly sinking spot of green, pink balls hovering around it. Scrya was still conscious, then. If he was sinking, though, that meant that Quint probably wasn’t, and moreover that the ferret boy was too weak to lift himself. Rather than try to go after them, Chrono threw out a wire-like bind to circle the bubble and pull it gently upwards. As he surfaced and nodded to Nanoha, hovering anxiously above, she relaxed slightly. The emergence of the bubble, and the sight of the weak but conscious boy inside it, reassured her further. Another crash behind them caught her attention, and with a torn expression she looked between Yuuno and the fight.

Chrono waved her off. “Go,” he croaked, mildly surprised at how drained he was feeling. He hadn’t spent as much power as this in… well, ever. “You’ve still got enough power to help. I’ll take care of these two.” And it looked like she would be needed. Hakutenou had progressed round to holding the engines up and out of the water, but its carapace was pitted and scarred with battle damage.

And then, as if in desperation, the glow from the submarine lessened. Seabed murk cracked and fell. The gun-like formations on its surface dissolved. The revenant crew crumbled where they stood, and the bunkers over the two surviving Jewel Seeds began to disintegrate. But the power was withdrawn, not lost. Withdrawn to be used for another purpose.

The water around the submarine boiled. And frothed. And glowed.

And sprouted a new set of tendrils. A dozen of them. Each tipped with a lethal-looking spike that had a clear and ominous purpose.

…

Fate sagged in the air as she saw them. The barbs were each taller than she was. Long stiletto blades that would punch through armour and pierce the structure of the huge summon. And without Hakutenou, the battle was all but lost.

They had come so _close_ , though! It wasn’t fair that this should happen. Helplessly, she fired bolt after bolt into the nearest tendril, boiling it away as it oriented itself on the giant insect.

It may have been slowed. The others weren’t. They stabbed, scorpion-like, piercing the summon’s chitin and spreading inside it to tear and rip and shred. It bellowed in pain, firing another abdominal beam that severed three of its tormentors outright, but it wasn’t enough. The damage was already done. Zest cut a fourth down with an blow that reduced its midsection to spray, but the remainder pulled out and stabbed again, aiming higher. The chest, the arms. The neck. Staggering, Hakutenou dropped its enemy, allowing the engines to push the submarine deeper once more, and fell backwards. It was already beginning to evaporate into smoke as it hit the water.

And then Fate felt it. Subtle. Very subtle. But there. She had been trained to deal with heavy concentrations of magic, and the signature of her mother’s power was one that she had never forgotten since that day. And she felt it now.

Her eyes widened as she realised what that meant.

 _‘Nanoha!’_ she yelled, a new surge of energy rushing through her tired and battered body. _‘Arf! Vesta! Climb!’_ They needed to be in clear air for this to work, somewhere easy and open to go from.

A greasy feel built in the air. A faint charge put the taste of ozone in the air. Sparks skittered up and down exposed metal, and the wind died away to nothing. For a brief, pregnant silence, the world was still.

 _‘Duck,’_ Fate broadcast softly. She wasn’t sure why she warned these people, ultimately her enemies even if they had cooperated for this battle. Maybe it was a sense of fairness, to repay her debt to the Scrya boy. Or her compassion. Mother had always said she was too kind.

She looked up to the sky.

And lightning struck.

The hammer of violet lightning finished what Hakutenou’s efforts had started, cleaving the submarine cleanly in two. The remnants of the bunkers the Jewel Seeds had erected were vaporised in a second, exploding into steam as the brutal assault battered the Seeds into submission and sealed them in one fell swoop, pulling them up out of the sinking wreckage. Wind and force smashed into the Bureau mages, forcing them back and crackling across automatic barriers until cracks spread through them. Zest weathered the storm and charged for the Seeds hovering delicately next to Nanoha and Fate, but another bolt of jagged lightning forced him to dodge for his life.

Around the girls, the air was still, and the light was soft. No breath of wind stirred their hair, and barely a spark hung in the air around their weapons. The calm at the eye of the storm was absolute and perfectly controlled.

In Dimensional Space, Lindy’s fingers dug into her armrests as the Asura was thrown about. The lightning struck it from the side, fracturing the shield and blowing out several of the generators. Another blow punched through it cleanly, raking along the hull and ripping holes that let in the swirling stuff of the Dimensional Sea. Automatic doors slid shut, isolating the breached compartments, and the bridge staff picked themselves up as panicked alarms wailed from what seemed like every station.

And then the attack reversed. With a jolting tug, the world turned white around Nanoha and Fate, and they disappeared before the TSAB’s watching eyes.

…

They landed in what Nanoha still thought of as the throne room. Precia stood in the centre for a second, blazing with power, looking every inch the sorceress-queen as she completed the teleport and scrambled its trail. Fate’s face lit up, and Nanoha gasped in astonished awe.

And then the magic shut off. Precia fell to her knees in the centre, coughing up mouthfuls of blood as Linith frantically supported her and gasping for air.

“Mother!”

“Stay back!”

Fate’s desperate cry rang out at the same time as Linith’s, the cat familiar snapping out a bind that locked all four of them in place before turning back to Precia. The frantic deluge of healing magic seemed to help somewhat, and the great mage looked up at them with a bloodstained mouth and sunken eyes.

“I am…” she whispered between ragged breaths, “very disappointed… I was forced to intervene.” Another set of wracking coughs shook her body as she sagged sideways against Linith. “They… should be able to… trace the teleport. A few days… at most.”

“Mother,” moaned Fate in horror. “Please, I… Linith, please, what can we do to…” Arf was whining, struggling against the bind, and Nanoha was trembling in outright terror at the scene playing out in front of her.

“No… Precia-san, hang on!” she urged, “Linith, please, let us help!”

Precia glared, her eyes flashing with a trace of her old majesty. “You are,” she gasped, “dismissed. Prepare for their coming. Go.”

“But…” protested Fate.

“ _Go._ ” A pale hand lashed out, and the quartet were sent tumbling out of the doors, which slammed in their wake. Picking herself up off the ground, Fate stumbled back to the great golden portals, hammering on them in panic.

“Let me in! Let me in, Linith, please, I can help! Please!” She was half screaming, half sobbing, and Nanoha felt like joining her. But no. The doors remained closed and locked. The mandate was clear.

Nanoha tried to get up. Tried to force her limbs to cooperate. But they wouldn’t. For once, after all that she had spent, she was just too tired. Too drained. Too horrified by what she had seen. Not just the ship, not just the nightmarish monsters, but Precia. Seeing the beautiful, brilliant, powerful great mage reduced to struggling for every breath, foam-flecked blood trickling down her chin from the wracking coughs… it was like seeing a pillar of the world crumble to dust in seconds. She couldn’t find the energy to do anything but lie there as Fate’s frantic hammering turned to pushing, and then to slumping against the doors and crying like her heart had been ripped out and stomped on.

It was Arf who managed to claw her way up first. Focusing, and breathing hard, she shifted into her human form. It took longer than usual, and she was clearly exhausted by the effort, but she staggered over to the black and blonde heap next to the door nonetheless.

“Fate,” she said, touching a shoulder. There was no response. “Fate, c’mon. Please. We gotta…” she paused momentarily as she tried to remember. “Uh… sleep. Strength. Get our strength back. Then… stuff. Please, Fate. Please.”

Fate mumbled something unintelligible. Which was probably a good thing, Nanoha thought dimly, because it didn’t sound polite. Arf closed her eyes tiredly, and it looked as though it took an effort of will to open them again.

“Kay,” she mumbled. “Fine. Vesta? Can you walk?”

The sound the tigress made in response was unpronounceable by anything but a cat, and twice as vicious. But the huge, soft form beside Nanoha slowly morphed into something that was still soft and still warm, but not quite as large. “Y’fms’wh’g?” she mumbled, which Arf seemed to either understand or ignore.

Whichever it was, she didn’t bother to reply. Instead, in one surprisingly swift motion, she scooped Fate up and began to walk away. The girl came alive again, screaming and struggling, but Arf kept her grip and kept walking, ignoring the glancing blows from Fate’s knees and elbows that she was struck by. Vesta sighed heavily, before picking up Nanoha’s limp form and following.

They made it to Fate’s room. Barely. The familiars were as gentle as they could be, but they still didn’t so much lay their mistresses down on the bed as try to drop them where it was soft. That task seen to, they gratefully shed mass and crawled onto the foot of the four-poster to fall asleep as kitten and puppy.

Fate and Nanoha lay there. Exhausted, but not yet asleep. Shaken, but no longer screaming. Quietly, into the silent bedroom, Fate began to sob again. Violent shudders shook her slight frame, and Nanoha could feel her hands shaking violently. She crawled over, silent tears streaming from her own eyes, and clumsily slung an arm over her friend. It wasn’t quite a hug – she was too tired to hug properly – but it was as close as she could manage to one.

She held her friend long into the night, as they cried away the fear for their lives and Precia’s; the horror of the ship and the monsters it had manifested, and the dread of the coming dawn.

…


	12. Chapter Eleven

Silence, save for the sound of shallow breathing, filled the medical ward. It was a welcome relief from the screams that had assailed the ears of those within for the past two or three hours – first adult, then infant. Warily, Quint poked her head around the door, ready to retract it hastily at the first sign of the noise starting up again.

Megane waved at her limply from the hospital bed. Her hair was all over the place, there were bags under her eyes and her skin still glistened slightly with sweat. Despite that, she still managed to look happy, if tired.

“You can come in,” she said softly. “She’s asleep. Finally.”

Quint slipped in with a quietness that belied her powerful frame, padding over to her friend’s bed and pulling up a chair. “Where is everyone?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

A hand waved limply at a door at the other end of the room. “Main infirmary. If I need anything, they’ll be through here in seconds. For now, though, I get some peace and quiet.”

Nodding in understanding, Quint shifted over to the neonatal unit, peering down at the tiny bundle within. The baby was tucked under a blanket, and her eyes were closed in sleep. The unit’s gentle heaters kept her warm, and there were two or three biosensors attached to her chest, monitoring her heartbeat and breathing.

“She’s so tiny,” Quint whispered reverently. The child’s skin was a darker shade of red than looked entirely healthy, contrasting oddly with the fuzz of dark purple hair dusting her head. “Is she… I mean, are there any problems?”

Megane yawned, but shook her head. “No, it doesn’t look that way. The med staff were panicking a bit, but her Linker Core had mostly decoupled from mine, so the condensation spell and the summoning didn’t really touch her. She’s on mana detox, but that’s more a pre-emptive measure than anything. Her body is still so fragile, she can’t handle what an adult can.” She smiled up at Quint reassuringly. “But she’s fine. Pre-term, but fine. That’s why she’s so little, and why she’s in that thing.” She nodded at the neonatal unit. “Her lungs are underdeveloped, so she needs help breathing. And keeping warm. And she might have trouble feeding for a few weeks. But she should pull through just fine.”

A weight of tension that Quint hadn’t consciously realised was there eased off with the good news. She sighed with relief, leaning on the transparent top of the unit as she returned her gaze to the baby. “That’s good. I was... worried.” She shot another glance at Megane. “What about you? You overstrained yourself several times over, how are you feeling?”

Megane closed her eyes, thinking about it. “… tired,” she admitted. “I feel like wet noodles, actually, I can barely lift my head. Calling on him always leaves me wasted for days.” She tilted her head to one side reflectively. “Oh, and also I gave birth. That wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. And by ‘gave birth', I mean 'they cut me open and pulled a raw and screaming infant from within me’. She wasn’t facing the right way, and they couldn’t turn her. So I get to heal from an open abdominal wound. You’d better be worth it,” she said, half-turning to mock-chide the sleeping baby. The soft smile on her face gave her away, though, as she looked back to her colleague.

She mustered a faint smirk at Quint’s grimace at the blunt description. “Alright, fine. Other than that… despite feeling more exhausted than I think I ever have in my life – and yes, that includes Basic training – I feel wonderful. And not just because all that weight is off my spine.” She twisted to look over at the neonatal unit with a tender expression that ever Quint rarely saw. “I did that. That little baby girl in there, all pink and soft and…” she paused, searching for a word, “… loud. She came from me. Somehow, that seems far more impressive than summoning a giant war kaiju.”

“Well _I_ can’t do either,” Quint murmured, barely audible. “So I guess I wouldn’t know.”

Megane blinked, taken aback by the bitter tone. “… wow. That was… unexpected.” She bit her lip. “I hadn’t really thought about how this must be for you. I mean, if I’m…”

“No, no. Sorry, I’m… that was out of line. She’s a tiny little miracle, it’s just… you know, old scars.” Quint sighed, looking at the tiny form with undisguised longing and a hint of envy. “Final choice on her name? You were juggling two, if I recall correctly.”

“Lutecia,” Megane pronounced softly. Quint nodded in approval.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful little girl. Does her father know?”

Megane shrugged as best she could, a cool expression of disinterest sliding most of the way into place. It wasn’t quite successful at hiding the lingering joy and pride in her new daughter, and Quint tactfully refrained from pointing out the cracks in the façade. “He’ll have been informed. He’s on a two-year tour of duty at the moment, though, so he won’t see her until after her first birthday. He’s reasonably nice, I suppose – I met him once, we talked for a bit – but he didn’t express much interest in helping raise her. I got the impression that the long tours of duty were a regular thing. He got a fulfilling relationship with a plastic cup out of the whole affair, and that was more or less all. Zest will probably have more contact with her than her father will. Speaking of which, where is he?”

“Ah, yeah.” She jerked a thumb towards the ceiling. “He’s leading the charge in backtracking that cross-dimensional attack. And not in a terribly good mood. He’ll be along later, once he’s calmed down a bit and pushed himself to the point of needing some sleep.”

“Hmph,” Megane huffed irritably. “Somehow I doubt the Admiral will try to lecture _him_ on his health. It really is terrible when commanding officers show such a double standard. It sets a bad precedent.”

Quint snorted. “Like you’re one to talk. You’re being as antagonistic about this as she is. And she’s right, in this case. You do need bed rest.” She shook her head in amusement. “It is astonishing. You summoned your highest-level summon and gave birth less than twenty four hours ago, and you can still somehow manage to muster the energy for some passive-aggressive bitching at the flotilla admiral.”

She slipped a hand into the incubator before Megane could come up with a retort, gently stroking the soft purple fuzz on the infant’s head. “You realise I’m going to claim full ‘cool aunt’ rights, don’t you? I intend to spoil her rotten. Though… huh. Someone seems to have started that already. What’s this?” She withdrew her hand, holding a white stuffed toy that had been lying next to Lutecia. “Aww, it’s a little toy for her,” she cooed. “A toy… um…”

She turned to Megane, offering the toy for a second opinion. “What do you think? Is that meant to be a cat or a puppy?”

The new mother arched an eyebrow. “I honestly have no idea. It looks like someone forgot to look at a real animal when they were designing it. And I hope they didn’t pay too much for it. Now put it back before she wakes up. I don’t know if it not being there will upset her, or if babies that age can even recognise that sort of thing, but I don’t want to risk her screaming the place down. Again.” She smiled wryly. “It really is amazing that someone who needs to be put in an incubator for help with her lungs can be that loud.”

“My oh my,” mused Quint with playfully fake sincerity. “I wonder where she gets that from?” Megane shot her a look, but the effect was rather ruined by the yawn that forced its way out. Quint shifted mental gears with practiced ease. “Alright, you’re tired. Sleep. She’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Megane looked as though she was seriously considering a sarcastic response to that, but the waves of drowsiness pulled her under before she could get it out. Her eyes fluttered shut as Quint tiptoed out of the room, and she slept, a peaceful smile on her lips.

…

‘Dear mama, papa, Kyouya and Miyuki. Arisa-chan and Suzuka-chan too.’

Nanoha stared at the words, tapping the pen Linith had found for her against her mouth. This was probably the hardest letter she had ever written, and it was only partly due to the fine line she had to walk with regards to what she said in it.

‘You know most of the stuff about the incident I’ve been drawn into. The TSAB know what we’re planning now, so I can write it all down in one place. To start with, Fate-chan has a little sister.’ She paused. Technically, Alicia was Fate’s big sister, in some ways. Or her clone, in others. But that was a bit complicated, and not really important. And might well still be secret. She decided to leave it out. ‘She was born a long time ago, and her name is Alicia. She got very badly hurt, and has been in stasis for a long time. Her mother, Precia Testarossa, has a way to make her better, but the TSAB say it’s dangerous and don’t want her to do it.’

The pen returned to its rhythmic tapping against her lip as she read back over what she had so far. The paper was thick and had a sort of parchment-like quality to it, and she had to smooth it out to keep it from rolling up as she was studying it.

Honesty warred with caution briefly, and won. ‘It _is_ a little bit dangerous, like I told mama,’ she admitted. ‘But Precia-san is very skilled and powerful.’ And ill, but Nanoha was sure that wouldn’t matter. Watching her coughing up blood had been horrible and scary, but even if she had collapsed afterwards, her spell-casting had been flawless.

Nanoha just hoped that the after-effects of what they were planning didn’t kill Precia before she even got to see her daughter revived.

‘I _know_ that she can control the Jewel Seeds’ power, and I’m certain that we’ll succeed in making Alicia-chan better again.’

She took a brief breather. This was where things started to get tricky, and she had to very carefully edge around revealing too much. ‘I can’t tell you exactly what our plan is. Even I don’t know all of it, just the important bits and everything I’m involved with. But basically, the TSAB are going to find out where we are pretty soon. We’re getting ready to do the thing that will make Alicia better, and hopefully we can pull it off before they track us down. But that doesn’t look likely, because starting it will be like a big signal saying where we are. So we’re going with a bit of a riskier plan, delaying them for long enough to finish the procedure and then escaping. The problem is, we’re going to have to lie low for a bit once we do that – and I can’t say for how long here, in case they intercept this. I told papa, last time I saw him. It shouldn’t be much longer than that.’

It would be months. Perhaps more. Nanoha pressed her lips together bravely so that they wouldn’t wobble, and continued. ‘I _will_ see you again though, I promise. And I'll be very careful, and make sure to keep up with my schooling as much as I can. I hope I make you proud of me.’

‘I love you all. Goodbye for now.’

A deep, shaky breath, blinking a little to stop her eyes from tearing up, and she signed her name with a flourish. Despite her efforts, a couple of teardrops hit the paper as she folded it up and slid it into an envelope, smudging the corner of her name a little. It was okay, she told herself. It wasn’t like a real goodbye, just a temporary one. She would be seeing them again, just not for a little while yet.

It didn’t sound very convincing, though.

But before she could sink into a proper state of depression, she was rudely interrupted by a terrifying war cry from behind her.

_‘Banzai! Vesta POUNCE!’_

A small furry object landed awkwardly on Nanoha’s head, scrabbling madly to keep from falling off. The attempt was rather less successful than she had hoped for, and a quiet thud followed as the kitten slid backwards and landed in a heap behind her mistress’s chair.

Slightly dazed from the impact, Nanoha shook her head briefly to shake out the fog. Gingerly touching the back of her head, she felt a spike of alarm as her hand came away wet. But when she brought it round, it wasn’t bright red that adorned her fingers.

“… Vesta,” she asked carefully, nudging the small ball of fur who seemed to be trying to hide between her feet. “Why is there white paint all over the back of my head?”

_‘Well…’_

There was a pause. Nanoha allowed herself to glance down, arching an eyebrow in the same way that her mother did when waiting for an explanation. Vesta herself wasn’t visible, but the paint-smudge where she was sitting was. From the looks of things, she must have been covered in the stuff somehow.

Apparently realising that Nanoha expected an answer, Vesta shuffled slightly, leaving streaky paw marks on the floor and a fan-shape behind her where her tail was twitching from side to side. _‘Um… hypothetically, right, Linith-oneesama might have asked me to help with painting one of the side rooms, and been talking to me while we did that. And I might have sort of kind of tried to Vesta Pounce her from behind, as a kitten. And if I_ had _done that, it would be totally her fault for moving out of the way at the wrong time so that I fell in a tin of paint. Which I can fit inside, by the way. Barely.’_

The unseen kitten paused, and coughed nervously.

 _‘And then she might have got all upset about something that was her fault in the first place, but been big and scary so I turned invisible and ran away and can I hide here for a while until she stops looking for me?’_ She shimmered into visibility with the last sentence, big eyes looking pleadingly upwards. Nanoha revised her earlier assessment – Vesta wasn’t just covered in paint, she was _drenched_. Her fur was matted and sodden, and she was almost completely white. It made her look rather like a little ghost kitten.

Overall, the miserable state she was in coupled with the pleading look she was giving Nanoha would have worked perfectly had it not been for one minor detail.

“Vesta, you’re covered in paint.”

 _‘I know! But don’t worry, I’ll just wash myself and it’ll all come out.’_ Vesta licked at her flank in demonstration, and immediately started spitting and hissing. _‘Ack! Bleagh! Yuck! That tastes really bad! Who made this stuff? They did it wrong! Paint shouldn’t taste that bad; how did they think poor kittens who fell in it were meant to get it off?’_ She cocked her head. _‘Maybe if I leave it to dry, it won’t taste as bad? Oh, or I could-’_

“No, Vesta… that’s not what I meant,” Nanoha interrupted. “You’re… covered in paint. Look.” She turned in her seat. Sure enough, there was a trail of white paw prints and splatter-droplets marking Vesta’s course into the room. “She’s not going to stop looking for you, because she can just follow the trail right here.”

If it weren’t for the fact that she was already plastered in white paint and invisible, Nanoha was fairly sure her kitten would have gone deathly pale at that.

 _‘Ahhh! You’re right! She’s coming now! I can hear her!’_ She looked around frantically. _‘Pretend I wasn’t here! Say I went a different way!’_ Without pausing to explain how Nanoha was supposed to justify the paint smeared all over the room, she darted under the wardrobe, leaving a white rim on the bottom edge.

Barely twenty seconds later, Linith swung into the room. Nanoha cowered instinctively. While not angry as such, the woman’s lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyes were narrowed and her face and hair had paint splashes on them.

“Where?” she growled.

Wordlessly, Nanoha pointed to the wardrobe.

 _‘Traitor!’_ Scrabbling came from under the wardrobe as Vesta put as much distance between herself and the angry cat-woman familiar as possible. Linith pursed her lips, eyes flicking over the wardrobe for a moment, and then gestured at it.

The entire thing lifted up and moved off to one side, revealing a plain wall with a small hole at the bottom. It didn’t look like it had been cut by Vesta’s claws, and Nanoha vaguely recalled her mentioning something about a hole under the wardrobe earlier in the morning. The kitten herself was nowhere in sight, though the white paint around the hole made it relatively easy to work out where she had gone. Linith examined the wall for a few seconds before sighing.

“Wonderful,” she murmured, before raising her voice. “Vesta, either you can come out of there now, or I will come in after you. Your choice.”

Nothing but stubborn silence came in response.

“Alright, have it your way,” she sighed. “Nanoha-chan, please stand back.” Nanoha scrambled to obey, and Linith gestured at the wall again, murmuring something too quietly to hear.

Nanoha’s apprehension gave way to open-mouthed shock as the wall split apart in reaction to Linith’s command. Parting along a near-invisible seam that touched the floor where the hole was, it slid back to reveal a cavernous space beyond her room. Sheet-covered shapes filled it, lined up in neat rows that filled the expanse. As Nanoha gaped in utter confusion, Linith slid into her war form and padded silently into the room, eyes narrowed.

Hesitantly, Nanoha approached one of the closer objects and tugged at the sheet. It slid off smoothly, revealing a sleek, crouching figure of golden metal-ceramic like the walls of the garden. It was roughly humanoid, with wide shoulder plates and a blank angled panel where a human’s face would have been. One hand rested on the floor, keeping the thing’s balance, and the other held a gleaming broadsword in a reverse grip that kept it out of the way. The robot’s joints were black under the golden plating, and etched with faint grey lines that bore a resemblance to some of the patterns on the machines Nanoha had seen deeper within the Garden.

It was not difficult to figure out what the thing was built for. Creepiness overcame curiosity, and she quickly backed off.

“… there’s a secret hangar behind my room,” she announced numbly to the world at large. “Full of… full of m-mecha.”

 _‘I told you about this, mistress! ’_ called Vesta, running up to her and taking the opportunity to hide behind her legs again. _‘I said there was a_ really big mouse-hole under the wardrobe!’

“... giant room. Of mecha,” managed Nanoha.

 _‘They were covered in dust sheets!’_ Vesta protested. _‘I thought they were art! I'm only little! And when I asked Linith more about things, she picked me up and showed me to the cages with the mouseys in and then we had snacks and... um, I forgot. Ack!’_

This last was at Linith appearing soundlessly to Nanoha’s left and pouncing. She picked Vesta up, jaws gently clamping down on the scruff of Vesta’s neck. Instinctively, the paint-drenched kitten went limp, swinging submissively to and fro as Linith gently shook her in admonishment.

 _‘You taste awful,’_ she informed her charge with a disgusted noise. _‘Now, we are going to get you cleaned off, and you will_ not _run away again. Understand?’_

Vesta gave a meek mewl of acknowledgement, still hanging limply from the jaws that were large enough to swallow her whole. With a nod to Nanoha, the elder familiar turned to leave the room.

“Ah… Linith?” Nanoha called after her. “Um… could… I wrote my family a letter. Do you know how I could get it to them?”

 _‘Of course, Nanoha-chan,’_ Linith replied. Very little of her irritation seeped through into her voice. _‘Just leave it on your desk, and I’ll get to it once I’ve finished giving this little one a bath, alright?’_ She waited for Nanoha’s assenting nod, and left.

It took less than a minute before Nanoha followed.

“Linith? Linith! You forgot to close the wall again!”

…

While Nanoha’s thoughts were on her family, her family’s thoughts were on her. Momoko set down a tray in front of the couch and took a seat next to her husband, leaning into him and offering a tired smile at the girls sitting opposite her. Suzuka smiled politely back as she took her tea, nudging Arisa to bring her attention back from wherever it had been as the blonde stared out of the window.

“Thank you, Takamachi-san,” she said. “So has Nanoha-chan said anything else?”

Shiro shook his head. “Not since I gave her Miyuki’s ice ball. And it seems as though she’s no longer at the hotel you saw her in, either.”

Suzuka sighed morosely. Both she and Arisa had been excited about that. It had looked like they were getting somewhere. This took them back to square one.

“… wait,” Arisa interrupted. “How do you even know that? We just saw her going in, not which room she had.”

Shiro smiled disarmingly. “I asked. Politely.”

Both girls gave him incredulous looks. He shrugged. “The description of Vesta helped. Not many little girls go in and out carrying a pet kitten. And one of the porters owed me a favour.”

“Leaving aside the question of how Dad finds this kind of thing out,” said Kyouya before Arisa could pursue the matter any further, “do we have any idea where they might have gone?”

“Well, that’s the unsettling thing,” Shiro said. “It seems they didn’t check out normally. Or give any warning they were going to be leaving. From what I gathered, they were there as normal on Sunday, and then Monday morning they were gone. The front desk got a hurried phone call saying that a family emergency had come up and that they’d had to leave as fast as possible. They left some of their stuff behind, too, souvenirs and some food and such.”

They thought about that for a while.

“To me, that sounds like they had to run for it,” said Miyuki eventually. “Maybe they thought the TSAB were closing in? Or got the rest of the Jewel Seeds and went back to wherever Fate-chan is based?”

“No,” Kyouya shook his head. “If that was it, they’d have checked out normally. To leave so suddenly, something must have happened.”

“I think something did,” commented Momoko thoughtfully. All heads turned to her. She was staring into her tea pensively, tapping a finger on the rim of the cup without really noticing. “I went there with Shiro, and there was something about the place, a sort of _off_ feeling. It was a little like that… dimensional quake, I think Nanoha-chan called it. Not quite the same, but I’m fairly sure it was magical in nature. Like…” she frowned, pursing her lips as she tried to find words to describe the sensation. “Like a wounded part of the world, maybe. It was very uncomfortable. The whole place felt stretched. Thin.”

“Like butter scraped over too much bread,” Arisa mused thoughtfully.

“Exactly,” nodded Momoko. “It- wait a moment.” She pinned the girl with a piercing stare. “How on earth did you know that?”

“Urk.”

“We went back to the hotel after school on Monday,” explained Suzuka. “We felt the same sort of thing. It was faint, but it felt _wrong_. Nobody else seemed to notice.”

Momoko considered them further, until Arisa began to squirm a little under the weight of her evaluating gaze. Then she nodded to herself, and held a hand up.

“I’m magical,” she explained bluntly. “We think it’s where Nanoha gets it from. Shiro, Kyouya and Miyuki seem to have some as well, it’s what they’re using in their sword style. But Nanoha and I seem to be relatively strong. Watch.”

Light gathered in her palm, wrapping around her hand and flowing up her arm to the elbow. It was a deep reddish-pink aura, crimson and vibrant, and it flickered and flared in time with Momoko’s steady, practiced breathing. The girls stared at it – as did Kyouya and Miyuki, who still weren’t used to their mother being capable of such things. The only one not enthralled was Shiro, who had come to terms with his wife’s ability while training her.

“If you felt whatever was around the hotel, you might have enough magic to learn,” suggested Momoko. “Think back to the feeling inside you that reacted to that thinness. Pull at it – it feels a bit uncomfortable at first – and just let it flow down your arm. It took me a few goes to get right, but it...”

She stopped. Suzuka’s eyes were screwed tightly shut, and her lips were moving soundlessly. She held her right hand out in front of her, holding onto her wrist to steady it, and took a deep breath. Then another. And another.

The pale tan light, barely more than a spot of sunlight from an unseen sun, which gathered in her palm was weak and faint. Washed out and wan, it was only noticeable if you knew what you were looking for. But it was there.

“… well,” smiled Momoko, a little surprised herself that it had worked. “That’s a start.” She sipped at her tea, waiting until she had both girls’ attention. “Nanoha has promised to send me some information on how to use magic as soon as she can. So how would you like to see where we can take it from there?”

Their radiant smiles were answer enough.

…

It took three baths to get all the paint out. By the end of it, Vesta was mewling pitifully and begging.

_‘Please! No more! This is torture! Murder! Agony! Please! I’ll do anything! I’ll give up my stash of shiny things! I’ll show you where I hid the string! I was the one who knocked the teapot off the shelf! I’ll confess, I promise, just please let me gooooo~!’_

Linith rolled her eyes and dunked the kitten once more into the kitchen sink to wash off what was left of the soap. It was technically probable that she could have got it off more easily had Vesta transformed – paint came off skin a lot more easily than fur. But she was feeling less than pleased with the little troublemaker, and this made for a suitable chastisement.

Judging Vesta’s fur to be more or less free of primer, she plucked the shivering, bedraggled ball of fur out of the sink by the scruff of the neck and set her next to the heater.

 _‘Ohhhh… that feels good.’_ Vesta attempted to shake some of the water off, before looking up at Linith with big blue eyes. _‘And whatever I might said while being tortured doesn’t count! I was under duress, you can’t take that as proof of…’_

“Vesta,” Linith cut in. She crouched down in front of her charge and cast a quick spell to dry her off. It also made the kitten’s fur puff up on end, making her look like a ball of fuzz, and Linith quickly lifted a hand to hide her smile. “Perhaps you should turn back into your human form?”

Vesta glared at her reproachfully, but complied. Her tail lashed uncertainly as her outline turned white and grew, stabilising in a pixie-faced young woman whose spiky grey hair stuck out in every direction, topped by a twitching pair of ears. She idly scuffed a steel-capped boot on the floor and fiddled with the hem of her skirt as Linith busied herself making them some coco. It only took a few moments, and soon a couple of steaming mugs were set on the table. Taking Linith’s cue, she sat.

“Alright,” sighed Linith with mild exasperation, sipping at her drink. “I was trying to have this talk in a more active setting and get something done at the same time, but…” she eyed the paint-stained sink, “that didn’t really work out. So we’ll have it here instead.”

“Uh…” managed Vesta intelligently. “Okay?” She ducked her head, letting her bangs shade her eyes, and looked up at the older familiar warily. “It’s not going to result in me getting bathed again, is it?”

Linith chucked. “I hope not! Though you’d make that easier if you refrained from jumping into any more tins of paint- hold on, dear.” She stood, and moved around the table behind Vesta. Firm hands smoothed down her still-tousled hair, and a weight settled on her head. Hatless, Linith returned to her seat.

“There now,” she grinned. “I’m sorry, but your hair was all over the place. That keeps it nicely under control.”

Vesta conjured up a mirror and turned her head this way and that, evaluating her new headwear. “It… actually does, I guess,” she admitted. “Hmm. But the style isn’t really me.”

Linith smiled fondly. “Well then, you can find yourself a better one later. I wanted to talk to you about Nanoha, and your duties as her familiar. I had this talk with Arf, too, when she and Fate were little.”

“I’ll protect Nanoha with my life!” Vesta declared proudly. “She’s my human, so it’s my job to look after her! If I didn’t have her, I wouldn’t be able to… to open cupboard and doors and _think_ and everything!”

“Mm hmm. But what about outside combat?” Linith prompted. Vesta blinked, and she took that as a cue to continue. “A Familiar will complement their master’s weaknesses; cover the areas where they’re vulnerable. Part of that is in combat, it’s true – that’s why you have close-range abilities, to guard Nanoha from people attacking her close up. But you also have illusions, don’t you?”

By way of an answer, Vesta grinned, and shimmered invisible. She shimmered back again almost immediately as a small squirt of water hit her in the nose.

“Hey!”

“Very amusing,” Linith complimented her dryly. “But why do you think you have those? They don’t cover any big weaknesses of Nanoha’s in combat, do they?”

“Well…” Vesta thought about, sipping from her own drink as she considered. “… no, I guess not.”

“Alright then.” The older woman looked perfectly at ease, Vesta noted, steering the conversation expertly. “So why do you think you have them? What do they let you do that Nanoha can’t?”

Another pause for thought. It didn’t take long. “They let me be sneaky!” Vesta cheered. “And also get into the ki- into places without people knowing. And stuff. Uh…”

Wary of her near-slip, it took her a few seconds to realise that the expression on Linith’s face was pride. She glowed slightly in satisfaction.

“Very well done, Vesta. Yes, you can be sneaky, which,” Linith smirked slightly, “is something that Nanoha _does_ have a few… shall we say ‘issues’ with, isn’t it?”

Torn between instinctively wanting to defend her mistress, and reluctantly admitting that Linith’s assessment was if anything an understatement, Vesta opted merely to nod. Linith leaned over the table and took her hand.

“And that is why Nanoha _needs_ you. Sometimes, she’ll need you without even knowing it. You need to cover her in situations where subtlety is needed. Sometimes you may even have to convince her not to go with her instincts, when they would be wrong. And she can be wrong, and will be wrong. You are Nanoha’s subtle hand, Vesta, and you need to watch for the times when she needs you in that role, because she won’t always see them herself. Talk to her. Advise her. We are as much made to guard our mistresses from elements of themselves as we are to guard them from others.

“Teach her caution, and teach her craftiness. And while I would never advise keeping secrets from her… sometimes it might be necessary to act first, and explain later. Only when you see disaster looming, mind you. But if she is headed for catastrophe and will not listen to reason, _you_ will need to be the one who rescues her. Alright?”

Wide-eyed, Vesta nodded, clearly trying to fit these new ideas into her mental framework. Linith offered her an encouraging smile. “Look at it this way – and you’ll have an easier time of it than Arf did. Nanoha is wonderful, yes? But she’s not a cat.” Sandy ears flicked up from where they had been hidden against her hair, and she winked conspiratorially. “Which means that amazing though she is, she’ll still make mistakes sometimes. You’ll have to teach her to be more… catlike, and subtle, in what she does. And pull her out of the fire when she acts like a newborn kitten and goes charging into danger.”

This phrasing was much more palatable, and Vesta nodded happily. “I will, Linith-oneesama! I promise, I’ll do my very best to protect Nanoha, even from the things she can’t see!”

“Very good phrasing. And a very good sentiment.” Linith nodded approvingly. “Alright then. That was all of what I wanted to say. Off you go.”

Vesta paused at the door, though, looking back. “Linith?”

“Hmm?” Linith looked up from her coco, and tilted her head. “Something more?”

“You said that Familiars fill in their master’s weak spots… so what do you do for Precia-sama? How can she have weak spots? What can you do that she can’t?”

Looking around surreptitiously, Linith beckoned closer. Always curious to hear a secret, Vesta crept up, her ears pricked. But instead of whispering forbidden knowledge in her ear, Linith just wrapped her in a hug, purring softly. Vesta melted into the embrace, purring back in a higher, younger pitch – a kitten replying to her mother.

“Think about it,” Linith whispered, a smile tinting her words. “You should be able to work it out.” She let Vesta go, and took her hat back, ruffling the shorter girl’s hair and tickling her behind the ears. “Now go on, go off and play with Nanoha. And look for a hat. I think one would really suit you.”

It was true. She really _would_ look good in a hat. Maybe a bowler, with holes cut in it for her ears? Oh, oh, or a backwards baseball cap! Hmm…

Mind spinning with excitement, Vesta bounced off in search of adventure. And hats.

…

Six mages sat arrayed around a table in the mess hall of the Asura.

Well. That wasn’t strictly true.

Mei lay across three chairs, her knee visible where it was propped up and her hands coming into view sporadically as she tossed an apple straight up and caught it again as it came back down. Rizu was perched at the end of the table, buried in a medical textbook that had to weigh at least as much as her Device’s staff form did. Heidi was pacing behind the chairs Mei lay on, and Tiida was staring at a report.

The last two members of the gathering were engaged in a heated game of Supremecy. From the focused frown on the blonde boy’s face, Yuuno was losing. Chrono smirked as he watched the archaeologist look for a move he could play that wouldn’t leave one or more of his patterns open to attack. The seven-point pattern Chrono had managed to set up early in the game, which was dominating half the board, was not helping him in this.

Finally, with a frustrated sound, Yuuno extended one of the three-point patterns he had managed to salvage in one corner of the board, and went back to reading as he waited for Chrono to reply.

“This has been fun, you know,” remarked Mei out of the blue. “But man, will it be good to get back home. I miss my bed. And I’ll have a bunch of awesome stories to throw at the others.”

“You can’t brag about classified mission details,” Heidi noted. “And it’s juvenile to boast, anyway.” She eyed the apple in annoyance as it rose and fell. “Are you ever going to eat that?”

“Eventually.” Mei grinned up at her impishly. “I like to play with my food before I eat it.”

Heidi flicked her hair with a muttered ‘urgh’, and turned back to pacing.

“I have to admit, I’m going to be relieved when this is over, too,” admitted Tiida. “It’s been… draining. And unpleasant.” He remembered the sight of needle teeth and acid-weeping eyes lunging for him, and shivered. “Very unpleasant.” That particular sight had been cropping up in his dreams for the past few days, and usually led to him jerking awake in the night, drenched with sweat.

Chrono eyed him. “The first big mission can often be a shock. Mine was, a few months back.” He frowned, inspecting Tiida’s face in a bit more detail. “Have you been having trouble sleeping? You might want to talk to the ship psychiatrist. Combat stress is something you want to catch quickly, before it sets in too deep.”

Tiida opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. “I… huh.” Blue eyes flicked back to the incomplete report, the blank page mocking him for his wariness to revisit the submarine Seed. “I guess it might help,” he allowed. “I’ll make an appointment later.”

The younger boy nodded, and turned back to his game, setting a piece down easily with a faint click. Yuuno made a strangled sound as he did so, and a hint of a smile curled his lip as he looked up.

“Problems, Scrya? You can still concede, you know. Lose with a bit of dignity.”

Yuuno growled at him, setting his next piece onto the board with a little more force than was strictly necessary and consolidating the corner he had managed to stake out as his own. “I’m only losing because you insisted on playing Supremecy,” he complained. “If this were Halting State or Corveé, I’d be thrashing you.”

Chrono shrugged, and nodded. “Probably,” he agreed. “I can’t play either of them at all. So… it’s this or nothing.”

“Besides,” Yuuno continued in a lower tone, “Lanster’s not the only one who’s not been sleeping well.” He looked down. “For a bunch of reasons.”

He looked up at Chrono’s carefully passive expression. “Yes, yes, I know. I’ve already talked to her a couple of times, anyway. Admiral Lindy recommended it, after Nanoha... I’ll go see her again. Can we just focus on the game? Please?”

“Try cheating!” advised Mei helpfully from bench-level, before “Hey! Give that back!”

Finally fed up with Mei’s fiddling, Heidi had snatched the gently spinning apple out of the air on the way back down. “Eat it or put it back,” she snapped. “But stop throwing it all over the place. It’s getting annoying.”

The green-haired girl looked hurt and confused for a second, before her expression changed to one of sulky resentment. “What’s got you so snappy?” she asked, taking a bite out of the apple. “Relax already.”

“Mei, Heidi,” Rizu spoke up for the first time. “Please.”

The quiet plea seemed to ease the tension somewhat. “Sorry,” muttered Mei, before adding in a lower tone. “But she started it.”

“We’re all stressed at the moment,” countered Rizu wearily. “Just… try not to get on Heidi’s nerves? And Heidi, can you try not to react if she does? She doesn’t mean to.”

Heidi sighed again, but nodded. “Fine, whatever. As long as she stops tossing things around.”

Mei was about to respond to this, but Yuuno broke the brief pause first. “Urgh, alright! You win!” he exclaimed, exasperated. Chrono’s patterns occupied most of the board, and it was clear that his little fortified corner was under heavy siege. Yuuno was mildly surprised, though, when the Enforcer nodded respectfully to him.

“Good game,” he said. “If I hadn’t snuck that first pattern past you, you’d have had a good chance. As it was, you lasted longer than I expected you to.”

Somewhat mollified, Yuuno took the compliment as gracefully as possible. “Thanks. Actually, I guess I owe you a thank you from the last fight. You pulled me out of the sea, right?”

Chrono shrugged. “You’d just blocked for Officer Nakajima. Which was impressive, by the way. Hauling you out of the water was the least I could do, given that you were half-unconscious. Try not to use up so much power next time.”

Yuuno held back his initial response to the unflattering description, and accepted the backhanded offer of truce for what it was.

“Hey, if you two are done, do you wanna watch a local film?” Mei asked. “I picked up a few of the classics, the ones that are really famous, and managed to get subtitles working on them. One of them especially has a lot of publicity at the moment and actually looks pretty good. It’s this massive action thing with a huge war against an evil empire or some such.”

Dubious stares met her.

“I’d… really rather not watch any more fighting right now, thanks,” Tiida said. General agreement came from the rest of the small group, and Mei looked crestfallen.

“But… come on, it looks really cool! And the box art has mana blades a bit like mine, and some really neat-looking spaceships. Totally unrealistic, but neat-looking. Plus…”

“Mei, please.” Rizu looked up from her textbook, frowning. For once, there was no trace of a stutter. “Like I said, we’re feeling stressed. The last thing we want to see is m-more combat. And I need to study and Tiida and Heidi have their reports to write up,” she glanced at them meaningfully, fully aware that they hadn’t yet finished them. “So go and watch it if you want, but please stop inviting us.”

Mei blinked at her sister for a second, and finally slumped. “Fine,” she muttered. “Whatever. I’ll go, then.” She rolled up and onto her feet, the motion tipping the chairs she was lying on over backwards. She didn’t bother to pick them up as she left.

“Ah,” Rizu continued. “Sorry about that. She’s always been… headstrong,” she settled on after a short pause.

“Insane,” muttered Heidi, her fists balled at her sides.

“Ever since she was little,” Rizu continued, showing no outward sign of having heard the remark. “Mother found her with a dead grass snake when she was three – she startled it in the garden, and she just attacked it back instead of being scared or crying.” Heidi snorted softly, but nodded in acceptance anyway. Tiida just squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, massaging a growing headache and staring a hole in the waiting report.

“Well,” Chrono sighed, after a short and awkward pause. Mei’s departure had broken the tension, but it had left an embarrassed silence in its wake. “The game was fun, Scrya. But I should get to work. Try and get those reports in soon, please.” He stood to go, and Yuuno rose as well.

“You’re going to help the tracking team, yes?” he asked. “I’ll help. It’s not like I’m doing much else with my time.”

“Um…” Rizu glanced back down at her book as a group of crew members entered the canteen, talking amongst themselves loudly. “I really need quiet to… uh… study,” she mumbled. Gathering up her books hastily, she fled the room after the departing pair.

That left Tiida and Heidi staring at each other. She shrugged defensively, a silent ‘not my fault’ in response to an accusation that hadn’t been levelled. Tiida didn’t have the energy to address it.

“I’m going to make that appointment,” he decided, closing the window with his report in it. “You want to come?”

She fell in step with him by way of a reply.

“And then I might call Tea, I guess...”

“Ask Rizu if she wants to sit in,” Heidi advised. “Your sister is with her mum, right? She’d probably appreciate a call home.”

He considered that for a second, as they left the mess hall and strolled away down the long metal corridor. “Yeah,” he decided. “Good idea. I’ll see if Mei wants to sit in, too, though I doubt she will.” He quirked his lips in a small smile. “It’ll be good for her to talk to Saralyn again. And Tea has a knack for cheering me up.”

Spirits bolstered and a plan in place, he set off with something less of a weary step towards the medical office.

…

A knock came at the door, and Precia waved it open. It was Fate. She didn’t enter the room, though, lingering on the threshold with an air of uncertainty. Precia raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes?”

Fate licked dry lips nervously, and took a hesitant step into the room. “Um… I wanted to talk to you, Mother. About…” she trailed off, looking up at Precia fearfully before dropping her gaze down to her feet.

No. Wait.

Precia knew her daughter’s clone. She had kept herself a distant presence in the girl’s life, but she was at least as aware of what made Fate tick as Linith was. She could usually read her like an open book, the determined mask that Fate showed to the rest of the world always slipped away when she was talking to her mother. And she knew what Fate thought of her, the awe and love and respect that formed the pedestal Precia stood on in Fate’s mind. Fear was there as well, but it was generally fear of her disappointment, or of failing her.

The expression she wore now was definitely fear. But it wasn’t fear of Precia. It wasn’t even fear of her reactions, of her disappointment or admonishments.

It was fear _for_ her.

Precia came to the conclusion of what this was probably about before Fate gathered up the courage to continue. She was clearly distraught, though trying hard to control it, and Precia carefully kept her expression neutral as she waited. She had done her best to hide the exact severity of her condition from the girl, and now that she was aware of how badly off her mother was, even Precia wasn’t entirely sure how she would react. Which was partly why she had hidden it in the first place, really. It would not be good if Fate fell into despair at the thought of Precia dying.

After what seemed like a silent age, but was in fact just a few seconds, Fate looked up again. Her face was relatively composed, but quiet tears glimmered in her eyes. “You’re… your health. I-it’s a lot worse than I had thought, isn’t it?”

There was absolutely no point in lying, now that she knew. “Yes,” Precia replied calmly. “Perhaps not as bad as you fear, I have some time left. But my condition is terminal.”

Fate had been expecting it, but she still flinched. She swallowed, blinking back tears for a few seconds, and her voice cracked slightly. “How… how much time do you have?”

Precia sighed, raising a hand up to rub her eyes in a brief lapse of composure. “Honestly?” she asked. “Even I cannot be entirely sure. At present… perhaps a year or two. That’s accounting for Alicia’s revival – any more large-scale magical workings will bring the time down further.”

“Can't... can't I do anything else to help?” Fate asked, her lips barely moving. “Is... can... is it... I mean, I don't know, but some kind of transplant or something?”

“Nothing feasible. In its own way, my condition is worse than your sister’s.” Precia smiled sadly. “But it doesn’t matter. As long as Alicia is happy and well for my remaining time, I will be content.”

“But I don’t want you to go!” Fate burst out. The composure that she had just about been holding cracked, and she crossed the distance to Precia in a stumbling run, falling into a half-kneel, half-crouch at the older woman’s feet. “Mother- mama, please! I don’t want you to die! Please, p-please be okay! I can’t lose you!” She was crying now, and took hold of Precia’s hand in both her own. Even as distraught as she was, Precia couldn’t help but notice how Fate was careful, holding her like she was made of glass or fine china. “It’s not f-fair that you have to go! Why… why can’t you and Alicia both be okay? Why do we have to lose you just after we’re all a family again?”

She bent her head, and for a moment only her sobs were audible in the room as tears trickled down her cheeks and dripped down onto the floor. Then a cool hand – too cool, too pale – gently reached down to tilt her chin upwards.

“Fate,” Precia murmured, and did something Fate couldn’t remember her ever doing, after those first few days where she wasn’t sure if she was Alicia or someone else.

A curtain of violet hair fell over Fate’s shoulder as Precia pulled her into a cool embrace. The sheer unfamiliarity of the gesture caught her sobs in her throat. She was used to hugs from Linith. But her mother had always been detached and distant, closing off her heart so that her grief for Alicia didn’t overwhelm her.

“Fate, I know it will hurt you to lose me,” Precia said quietly. Hesitantly, jerkily, Fate lifted her own arms up to circle the woman’s waist. Emboldened by the lack of a rebuttal, she finished the motion the rest of the way and clung to Precia, burying her face in her mother’s shoulder.

“I know it will hurt,” Precia continued. “But you have to be strong. Alicia will still need you when I am gone. She will need someone to watch over her, protect her, and keep her safe. I know you will do that for her.” She gently pushed Fate back, a hand on each of the young girl’s shoulders, and looked her in the eye. “You are a good girl, Fate. I am glad that I have had you at my side, these past years, and I am relieved that Alicia will have someone there for her who can help her. I trust you to make sure she grows up safe and happy.”

Fate’s lip trembled as she looked up at the calm face of the woman her life had revolved around for her entire life. “But you’ll be gone,” she mumbled, in a very small voice. She looked heartbroken. “You’ll be gone, and I’ll never get to see you again. And Alicia will only be seven or so.”

“You will recover, both of you,” Precia said, her quiet voice soothing. “And you can enjoy all the time with me you have left. I’m counting on you to be strong, Fate. To be there for her. To hold things together. I know I ask a lot of you, Fate, and I would not do so if I didn’t have confidence in you to achieve everything I ask of you and more.”

It still hurt. It hurt terribly. But as Fate quietly nodded, and wrapped trembling arms around her mother again; as she held the woman close for as long as she was allowed the contact and shook with emotion, grief and silent tears, it no longer quite seemed like a pain she couldn’t survive.

…

Quint knocked twice on the door, and slid it open just as the sound of an explosion came from inside. The girl lying morosely on the bunk looked up as she entered, and scrambled to pause the movie she was watching.

“Uh… Investigator Nakajima! Hi! Um… I was just… that is…”

“Hey,” Quint cut in with a friendly smile. “It’s fine, I just wanted a chat. And it’s Quint, when we’re off-duty.

“Quint. Right. Um…” Mei glanced around the room. It was not large. Two bunks lined the far wall, the higher of which she was lying on. A desk sat off to the left of the door, opposite a basic, utilitarian wardrobe. The sink in the corner completed the sparse furnishings. “Ah… do you want to sit down?” She rolled off the bed and pulled the desk chair out. Quint nodded gratefully and took a seat, watching Mei with half an eye as she retreated backwards to sit on the bottom bunk, fidgeting slightly.

“You’ve made a pretty good accounting of yourself on this mission,” she started. That perked the girl up somewhat. She had looked fairly morose when Quint had entered, and it was obvious that her attention hadn’t really been on the movie she was watching.

“However,” Quint continued, “you’ve also been more than a bit reckless, so I thought I should probably intervene before you take it too far. That trick with the barriers you pulled. I’m guessing you got the idea from my Wing Road?”

“Yeah!” Mei seemed more animated now. “Well, kinda. I’d been sort of thinking of ways to get airborne, since… well, they can fly, and I can’t. And then I saw you, and I was like ‘yeah, that would work!’, so I tried it out. Didn’t have time to test it first, but it worked pretty well.”

Quint gave her a flat look. “Mei, you fell. From the fifteenth floor.”

“W-well…”

“I can use Wing Road like I do because I have a Rare Skill that lets me do so. But it’s not something that can be taught.” Quint snapped her fingers to bring Mei’s gaze back to her from where it had started to wander away in embarrassment. “I’m not blaming you for this, because you didn’t have any way to know. But I want you to promise me that you won’t try that sort of thing again. There’s a reason people don’t do that instead of flying, it’s far less efficient than the flight spell is. You _will_ fall if you try it. Next time, there might not be someone there to catch you.”

She got a nod and a mumble, which she interpreted as agreement.

“Right!” she smiled. “I’m glad that’s cleared up. On another note, how are you holding up with the pressure? This is your first big mission, and I know I was terrified on mine. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Now the girl looked straight at her, blue eyes – one much paler than the other – glinting oddly. “The others said that as well,” she mused. “How the stress is getting to them. I don’t… I mean, I feel fine. Really. I dunno what they’re so snappy about.”

“Huh. Strange. Though if they’re having issues and you’re not, you could be accidentally putting them on edge. They probably don’t mean the snappiness, they’re just tense.”

Mei sighed. “Yeah yeah, I know. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” She nodded up at the holoscreen still active above her bunk, frozen in mid-scene. Quint raised an eyebrow.

“Watching a movie, huh? Any good?”

Mei just _grinned_ , and grabbed at the holoscreen. She tossed it onto the far wall, where it stuck and expanded, and rewound it quickly back to the start.

Quint kept a quiet train of thought to herself as the film played. It was actually fairly good for such a low-tech backwater thing, where you could see the aliens were men in costumes. And Mei’s running commentary helped explain some of the parts that you probably needed to be a native to really understand.

The music was good, too.

“So, from what I’ve picked up,” Mei said after a while, “I think this is meant to be like the break-up of the League of Free States, back in the Warring States era. I got the impression it’s a parallel to some bit of local history – there was an article on their internet – but there was stuff I didn’t follow there. Some kind of emperor has just shut down their senate, anyway. And there’s this guy called Han… him! Him there! He’s _hot_.” She glanced at Quint uncertainly. “And… uh. A smuggler. And a criminal. Which is wrong, and bad. But he’s still hot.”

Quint smirked. “I’m not arguing with you there. Better than the sappy farmboy lead, anyway. So, who’s the guy in black? He looks Praovean, with that armour. How old is he to need a life support suit?”

“I dunno. We haven’t found much out about him yet. Or… I may have missed that bit. I wasn’t paying much attention, I’ll admit.”

There was something off about the girl. Quint eyed her as the characters onscreen duelled with glowing weapons. A smile tugged at her mouth as the girl stifled a yawn. The fight may have looked impressive to the natives, but from the point of view of a mage, it wasn’t terribly impressive. Still, though… she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, but there was something nagging at her. She let it bubble up slowly as the plot advanced, only half-paying attention to it and Mei’s comments.

“Man, these people are going to be disappointed when they get into dimensional space and find out we’re all human. It’d be pretty cool to have aliens around. Though that Death Star thing? I swear I saw something in a history book that looks like that. The Y-thingy place back in the Dawn States, I think. Or maybe Alhazredian.”

“Same thing,” Quint commented idly. “Yeventine orbital platform, maybe. Most of that stuff was built on top of pre-existing Alhazredian stuff that they salvaged. There’s a mostly intact one out near Athata; we once ended up having to solve a pretty nasty murder case on it. Though that was… oh, more than ten years ago. Turned out it was some higher-up at the fleet anchorage there.”

“Huh. Well, it’s stupidly big either way. The designer was clearly compensating for something.” Mei grinned wickedly. “Man, attacking that thing would be awesome. Though… you know, they’re all really old. I mean, even the farm boy is older the Heidi. And that old guy is _ancient_. The lower bound seems to be, like, twenty. I guess they think differently to us about that sort of thing.”

And that was it. Quint blinked as the pieces fell into place. “Think… yeah. Yeah, I guess. Though you you know they’re trying to push the general age up at the General Council? You might be one of the last ones to get in at fourteen. Doubt it’ll pass, though.” She shook her head, changing the subject. “Anyway, it’s been real fun, but I need to go look into something.”

“Aww,” The younger girl looked genuinely put out at that. “But the film isn’t finished yet.”

“Paperwork calls,” Quint shot back. “Unless you’re volunteering to help me fill out reports?” She winked jauntily. “Try not to get into any more trouble, alright? Next time there might not be someone there to catch you.”

Waving a cheerful goodbye, she slipped out of Mei’s quarters.

Five minutes later, she was at the door of the medical bay.

“Oh, hello,” Megane greeted her when she entered the room. She seemed better, propped up by pillows into a sitting position and sipping from a cup of what looked like soup. “Back so… oh, you have your investigator face on. Alright, what can I help you with?”

Quint pulled up a chair, and sat down beside the bed. “Mei Ereignis. One of the backup team. I’m concerned.”

“The one who tried to copy your Wing Road with barriers?” Megane murmured, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not surprised. Any specifics?”

“She’s fifteen years old, and reacts to combat stress like a veteran,” Quint stated bluntly. “Her teammates are reacting about like I’d expect, but she barely seems phased. If anything, I’d say it has her hyped up for more. I think there may be some engineered traces in her, and you know more about that sort of thing than I do. I want to know if she’s likely to behave… oddly.”

“Hmm.” Megane’s eyes narrowed. “I can see your point. Anything else?”

“Mostly just the fear response. Though I looked up her dad, the parent she doesn’t share with her half-sister. Apparently he threw himself at... at the thing that killed him, to give other squads time to get there. I’d guess she gets it from there.”

“Hmm,” Megane repeated. It was a short, evaluative sound. “It sounds like she's got some kind of berserker lineage in her... that's the technical term for one of those types. Low fear response, power boost when stressed, some of them have actual berserk attacking tendencies but we haven't seen any of them from her so she's probably not from one of those. She’s almost certainly pretty degraded, if she’s still C-rank at fifteen. She won’t have much more than the neural tweaks, and maybe a power boost of at most a rank when stressed. Though that’s hard to test for. You know the kind of tweaks… remember that one six years ago who tried to walk off you breaking his ribs?

Quint winced. “That was messy.”

“Yes, well. You should know, you’re the one who made the mess. Well, it’s probably in a similar class to him. You know, reacting with ‘attack harder’ instead of being scared or backing off, operating better under stress, resistance to mental pressure, that sort of thing. I bet she has 'troubled child' written all over her file. Those ancient gene-meddlers never seemed to put enough thought into what ‘reduced fear response’ does to someone’s life.”

She glanced over at Lutecia, who was asleep again. “She won't have to have any of that, thankfully; I made sure the donor was pure high-grade summoner from the same lineage as me. I know there's at least one related lineage with berserker contaminants, and... honestly, it's dangerous. And stupid. Properly run eugenics programmes are a serious matter. You can't much around and try breeding lineages together casually because you want to get the best features of both.” She sniffed. “It’s not even as though it _works_.”

Quint rolled her eyes. “Meg, it’s interesting, but you don't need to lecture me about it. You just gave birth to a child from a donor when you don't even _like_ men. Though on that note, a little bird told me you were making eyes at one of the nurses during your last checkup before we got grabbed for the Shroud case. Is she cute?”

A small, satisfied smile flitted across Megane’s lips. “Actually, she- wait.” She shot Quint a look. “How do you even know about that?”

Quint affected an air of innocence that was utterly ruined by her smirk: “I told you, a little bird told me.”

“... it was Vance, wasn't it?”

That garnered a shrug, but Quint’s eyes were dancing playfully. “I swore not to tell, so I'm going to have to categorically deny that he would ever do such a thing as gossip.”

Megane sighed. “Right. Remind me to bind him to the ceiling when we get back. And flag Ereignis for evaluation by a specialist. If she is from a berserker lineage, she needs to know it so that she doesn’t go and get herself killed. If she knows about it, she can learn to handle it for her own good and,” the woman rolled her eyes, “for the blood pressure of her commanding officers.”

“Right… that’s good to know.” Quint cleared her throat uneasily. “And… also not so good.”

Megane levelled a stare at her that could have etched an imprint onto granite. “What _now?_ ”

Quint idly cracked her knuckles, mentally fortifying herself for the next part of the combination. “I wanted confirmation from an unbiased source first, but… the traits you just described could also be applied to the actions of someone else we’ve encountered recently.” She breathed out a slow, measured sigh. “Is it possible that Takamachi might also have faint berserker contaminants in her bloodline?”

Megane wasn’t the type to pale, or curse, or flinch. She just went very still for a few seconds; a telling sign that her mind had just clocked into overdrive even as an expressionless mask slammed down over her face. After a brief, heavy silence, a little animation returned to her features, and she shook her head slowly. “I… wouldn’t _expect_ so. This world is fairly uncontaminated, and she certainly doesn’t show any signs of battle rage. But the other factors… it would explain a lot. It might be best to check her mother once this is over. Her father too, in case there was some odd recombination.” She pursed her lips. “That would make things more complex in some ways, but easier in others… well done. That was good thinking.” She looked up, meeting Quint’s eyes. “Very good thinking. Until we know for sure, don’t try to scare her, and be wary of a potential escalation reflex. And warn the others of the risk. It might be nothing, but that’s no reason not to take precautions anyway.”

…

Zest massaged his eyes tiredly, before turning away from the readout. The final twist to Testarossa’s spell had scrambled the trail of the teleport she had used expertly, but an attack and matter transport of that magnitude couldn’t be hidden completely. It was just a matter of deciphering the clues from the turbulence that her intervention had generated in the local Dimensional Sea and tracking it back to the source. The local gradient discontinuity diffusing through higher dimensional space spoke of the force behind the spell; if one thought of it as a sound wave they would still be hearing echoes.

But for now, if he stared at the abstract contour and colour displays that represented the interdimensional space the ship was travelling through for much longer, he was going to get a headache. Well, more of one. It wasn’t serious enough to require attention from a healer, but it was there, pulsing behind his forehead. He didn’t like to receive too much magical care before a major operation, either. It was perhaps a little over-wary, but he didn’t want to end up with mana poisoning because he’d had to push himself against a great mage like Precia Testarossa and had the magic from attention for a minor headache already in his system.

And he’d already downed a couple of headache pills earlier, which hadn’t seemed to have any noticeable effect. Wonderful. 

He nodded to the others who were still working – he recognised them vaguely as the bridge staff, though he didn’t recall all of their names. Scrya and the Harlaown boy he knew, though, and it was a little surprising to see them with their heads together over a screen, talking quietly. It looked as though they were debating something, but the antinomy between the two was nothing like what it had been. They seemed to have settled down somewhat and reached a truce, or at least a détente. That, at least, was a good thing. He headed for the bridge, noting as he passed a corridor leading to the medical bay that he should probably visit Megane soon, or he’d catch hell from her and Quint.

Lindy had a communications window open when he got to the bridge, and he recognised the face on the other end. It was hard not to. Admiral Graham was well-known and a powerful mage in his own right. He was also, Zest recalled, from UA-97 himself. The brown-haired man entertained himself for a moment by contemplating whether it was that or the fact that he was known to be close to Flotilla Admiral Harlaown which had seen him brought in. He remembered that the man’s area of operations was relatively close to this backwater, although not the closest – certainly, though, he would be able to get assets here quickly. 

Snapping off a salute, he approached the screen. “Sir,” he greeted the older man. It was both a statement and a question.

“Ah, Captain Grangaitz. Good to see you.” The elderly man onscreen acknowledged him with a professional nod. “I will be aiding with the assault on Precia Testarossa’s base of operations. The TSAB has sent a task force to back up the ships under Flotilla Admiral Harlaown’s command.”

“And if that isn’t good news to hear, I don’t know what is,” Lindy smiled. “In total, that gives us the five ships under my command – of which the Asura is the largest – plus an additional four from Admiral Graham, a cruiser and three destroyers.”

“Nine ships.” Zest hummed thoughtfully. “It’s less than I would like, for an assault on a great mage.” He shifted his stance, standing a little taller. “I will volunteer to lead any infantry combat team to apprehend Precia Testarossa. I have no doubt that Warrant Officer Nakajima will express a similar sentiment.”

Lindy nodded, as if she had expected nothing less. “I rather thought you would,” she confirmed. “Be on your guard. Even if she’s dying, she’s still a great mage. That title isn’t given out without reason.”

“Who will be leading the task force, if I might ask?” queried Zest.

“Flotilla Admiral Nunes,” came the response from Admiral Graham. “I nominated him personally, and the ships are from his command. He’s solid, and has experience in Lost Logia cases so he’ll be on the ball if Testarossa starts doing something strange with the Jewel Seeds. He managed the containment for that outbreak of Polyam-Ladradun syndrome in Sector 029 two years ago, and...” the grey-haired man half-turned off-camera, “... what is it, Aria?”

“Sir. I’ve received word from the admiral that... oh, is that Flotilla Admiral Harlaown,” said the uniformed woman leaning into camera. The view expanded slightly to accommodate her, and she straightened up, saluting. The feline ears of the admiral’s familiar twitched to attention. “Ma’am. Yes, sir, Admiral Torrigan is five days from UA97; he’s currently holding position over Aligned World 61 having broken off the training exercises with the Vallerine fleet upon Flotilla Admiral Harlaown’s general distress. He is commanding the _Yaksha_ , and has Battle Group 16 with him; they are ready to move if required.”

Lindy pursed her lips. “If he could make it here in time...” she began.

“With respect, admiral,” Zest interrupted, “I don’t believe he will.” Clasping his hands behind his back, the man – towering over everyone else on the bridge – began to pace backwards and forward. “We only have a limited window to backtrack Testarossa’s attack. We are gambling that she did not fire it from a disposable location; if she jumped to that place, then when we back-track it we will need to try the best we can to try to follow her trail.”

“I bought that to your attention yesterday, at the meeting, sir,” Aria pointed out to her master, tail idly flicking behind her. “I also pointed out that now that she has all those Jewel Seeds in her possession, she can flee to any place in Dimensional Space, and the up-to-date maps only cover two jumps beyond UA-97. There was a minor quake in 057 which means that we cannot be sure of routes beyond that.”

Zest paused. “Yes, thank you,” he told the familiar calmly, “that was going to be my next point. And... Admiral,” he added, glancing to Gil Graham, “yes, the _Yaksha_ would be a much better choice for any assault against wherever she’s based. But it doesn’t have the speed.” The man swallowed, pausing for just a second. “Out of interest, how fast could the picket ships and the long-range detection specialists get here if you detached them from the battle group?”

The familiar’s eyes flicked to her master, who nodded. “Let me just...” she began, eyes flicking back and forwards, “... yes.” She nodded once. “Assuming they depart immediately and they push their drives to M2 over maximum safe speed... which,” she added to her master, “... will mean they will all require dock time. Working from the limited detail of the local maps... approximately fifty hours, give or take three hours. At that speed, it would be better to transfer the specialists to those ships. Even aided by the DTAM on the _Yaksha_ , personal-level teleportation would add a day to their travel times for recovery, which is not advisable if there is a potential combat situation.”

There was quiet on the bridge as Lindy sat, her fingers steepled in front of her. Zest could read some of the thoughts passing through her mind from the wake they left on her face; she was not sure if that would be soon enough, or whether such vessels would make a difference even if they could get there in time. She was worried by the risk that such ships, lighter than the _Asura_ , would arrive just in time to be caught in the blast-radius of whatever Precia Testarossa was doing.

As it happened, the choice was taken out of her hands.

“I’ll order it,” Admiral Graham said, abruptly. “Good call, Captain Grangaitz.” He ran his hands through his steel grey hair. “There are six billion people on Earth,” he said. “That’s more than average for a core world, let alone the backwaters around here. It’s the last remaining uncontacted Type-1a world. And,” he snorted, “even if I hadn’t happened to be born there, that would be more than enough reason to try our very best to protect it. I’d quite like to retire there, too,” he added, the weak joke breaking the tension. 

The man paused for a moment, tapping his fingers in front of him. “I’ll get you more help,” he added. “Lotte!”

There was a pause for a few seconds, and a grey cat bounded up onto his lap, and from there onto the arm of his chair. A flare of light announced a transformation, and when the screen cleared, another woman – almost identical to the first familiar, save for shorter hair – sat perched on the arm. “Yep?” she asked, leaning forwards to peer at the screen. 

“Prepare for immediate travel. Get to Earth as soon as you can; the Asura is in near-sea orbit. I’m putting you under the command of Captain Grangaitz... Admiral Harlaown informs me that one member of your squad is out of commission due to... uh...”

“Childbirth,” Lindy filled in, her face completely flat.

“... yes. Um.” Admiral Graham took a breath, and tried to resume his flow. “Is out of action, and Lotte is skilled, combat-focussed, and – importantly – will be with you within an hour.”

“Yep!” the familiar agreed. “Let me just go grab my overnight bag and...” her words were lost as she darted out of sight.

Zest drew in an impressed breath. The ability to pull off so many jumps in quick succession was one of the foremost markers of high magical power, much as how one of the characteristics of the A-rank was the ability to fly. She wouldn’t be able to take Megane’s role, but honestly... well, he had been at ground zero of Precia Testarossa’s attack. Having read her file, he felt the odds were on him if he could get in the same room as her. The problem would be getting that close. A powerful familiar – who was likely good at defensive magic – would be an asset for that. “Thank you, admiral,” he said, inclining his head.

“Aria and I will try to see if we can grab anyone of AAA rank or more within a day’s travel of you,” the older man continued. “I’m going to pull all the strings I can. Aria, can you...” the familiar passed him a small black book, “... thank you.”

“No problem, sir,” the long-haired cat-woman said. 

Her sister bounded into view, a bright pink rucksack now on her back. “Ready!” she announced, self-satisfied. “Checked up on the dimensional coordinates... should be a matter of two jumps.”

“Take three,” Aria informed her solemnly. “They are tracking the criminal as we speak; don’t exhaust yourself.” Lotte pouted, but nodded, and began to glow, Mid-style characters floating around her, before she vanished in a flash.

“Will there be anything else?” Admiral Graham asked.

Lindy shook her head. “No, sir,” she said gratefully. “That’s been... well, more than I’d hoped, let alone asked for.”

“Good.” The steel-haired man shook his head. “Don’t muck this up, Lindy,” he said, sadly. “I want to see you and Chrono again. All right? Plus, you know, I’d rather not have a deranged madwoman blow up my home planet. And don’t go down with your ship out of misguided honour.”

The green-haired woman nodded. “I will try my very best to come back in one piece with that woman in cuffs,” she promised.

“Do that,” the senior officer said, cutting the connection. Lindy turned from the screen, swivelling on her chair to flash Zest a brave smile. “Well, that’s good news,” she said. “Lotte, along with her sister, was one of Chrono’s trainers. She’s very good; Gil is a real genius with familiars. Lots of raw power, but he’s focused on that field and... Streben-Kaisers, I couldn’t even run one of those two, let alone both of them. Lotte could still trounce Chrono last time they sparred.”

“That good?” the man asked, raising both eyebrows. “I find it a little hard to believe that a familiar could do that. Your son is good.”

“She’s better,” Chrono’s mother said flatly. “It’s good for his humility. When this is all over, I’d love to see her spar against Warrant Officer Nakajima. And the picket ships too... well,” she shook her head, “... we can only hope that we can find Precia. If we can’t, at least we’ll have their equipment to help search for her.” Lindy bit down on her lip, stretching in her chair. “I’m going to go down to the operations room,” she said, suddenly. “I need a walk and I’m going to go crazy if I stay up here wondering how they’re progressing on the hunt. I know it’s bad to stare over their shoulders, but I want to see progress in person.” She smiled at him. “Are you coming with me?”

Zest shook his head. “Only past the infirmary,” he said, still staring at where the main screen had been. “I’m going to go check on Meg, and then I’m going to grab some rest. I’ve got a headache coming on, and my eyes are sore from looking at contour maps – and I’m still aching from the last Jewel Seed.”

“Oh. Oh, okay.” The woman pulled herself to her feet, smoothing down her blue uniform. “Yes, we certainly don’t want you out of action. I just thought you might want to stay up at least until Lotte arrived, since Gil put her under your command.”

Zest sighed mentally. Yes, he supposed he really should. “Well, it depends on how long I spend with Meg,” he said, trying to sound idle. “I’ll see if you’re still in the operations room when I’m done; there are just a few things we should probably run over.”

Lindy nodded, green ponytail bobbing behind her as the pair of them headed to the exit from the bridge. “If I’m not there, I’ll be up here or...” she paused, putting one hand on her stomach, “... I might be in the cafeteria. In fact, just message me when you’re done.”

“I will,” the brown-haired man said, stepping back to allow her into the lift first.

…

Nanoha kicked her heels idly as she waited. She sat in a comfortable armchair, sipping coco and scratching Vesta behind the ears. Fate was in a similar position beside her, though the blonde’s familiar was at her feet, in her war form, serving as an impromptu footrest.

Nanoha had asked if she could use Vesta like that, and her familiar had responded that this would be perfectly alright by her as long as she could rest on Nanoha’s back in her war form in return. Nanoha had dropped the subject without trying to debate it further, and hadn’t brought it up since.

So Nanoha kept swinging her heels, and occasionally wondering what was taking Precia so long. The woman had called them – all of them, Linith included – to her chambers for an announcement. She had refrained from saying anything about exactly what it was that she was going to be announcing, and it was now almost half an hour gone, by Nanoha’s estimate, from when she had asked them to be there by.

 _‘I’m sure she’s just running a few more tests, Nanoha-chan,’_ Linith said gently from beside her. Nanoha looked over in surprise at the massive feline, who simply smiled a cattish smile at her. _‘I know you’re getting bored,’_ she soothed. _‘But Precia-sama wouldn’t keep us waiting if it weren’t important. And look, Fate isn’t worried.’_ She nodded over at her other charge, and Nanoha had to admit she was right. Fate seemed… not happy, but certainly more determined and stable than she had in days. The clear, calm resolve that Nanoha had seen when they first met once again shone in her eyes, the unshakeable knowledge of who she was and where she was going that had so impressed the uncertain girl of...

… was it really a month or so ago? Nanoha did the maths quickly in her head. It had been the second-last Saturday of April, so… yes, it had been just over a month ago. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Her life had changed so _much_ since then – having to leave her family, making Vesta her familiar, the terrifying fights against Jewel Seed and Bureau both. A month and a bit seemed both far too long ago and nowhere near long enough for the time between her and the girl that Fate had put in hospital.

Before she could wrap her head around the confusing question of which it was, the door opened and Precia entered. Five sets of eyes quickly scanned over her, reaching the mutual conclusion that while she was pale and had bags under her eyes from another late night; she didn’t seem to be on the verge of collapse. As well as that, the unconscious grace with which she moved showed that she was in what passed for good health, in her terms.

For her part, Precia didn’t bother to acknowledge the worried glances, and crossed the room briskly to take the high-backed chair in front of them.

“I’m sorry to have taken so long,” she began. “I needed to confirm my theories and run several more models to check constraints. It seems to be viable, and… ah, but I am getting ahead of myself. Allow me begin again.” She regarded them seriously, but with a flare of passion in her eyes. “There has been a change of plan.”

Utter silence. She nodded, still composed on the surface, but the excitement and energy underneath bubbled up regardless, evident in every word she spoke, and every motion she made. Fate’s heart sped slightly as she realised for the first time how utterly breathtaking her mother must have been in her prime, working in the fields she was passionate about.

“I had hoped to go to Alhazred with Alicia as she is now,” explained Precia. “However, experimentation quickly showed that this was not feasible. The natural AMF in Imaginary Space… Anti-Magilink Field, Nanoha-san, they interfere with the linking of mana to form spells, and tear apart linked mana in already-active spells. A powerful enough one can even dissolve a Barrier Jacket and render flight spells inactive. The conditions in Imaginary Space are effectively an AMF of incredible power, far stronger than any mage or method known to modern civilisation could hope to overcome. AMF technology was developed from studying it. It is why magic is impossible to use there, for all intents and purposes, and why anything lost to it is effectively impossible to retrieve. Were we to take Alicia’s tank into that, the spells on it would unravel within seconds.”

“Then… how can Alhazred still be there?” asked Fate worriedly. “And how can we get there with magic? And what about Arf and Vesta? Aren’t they made of magic? What would happen to them?”

Precia nodded again. “All good points,” she confirmed. “But note, I said no magic _known to the current day_. I not only have faith that the magic-capable portions of Alhazred could have survived in some form, I have proof. Proof that you and Nanoha-san delivered to me, for which I will ever be grateful.”

Arf’s eyes widened, and she raised her head in realisation. _‘The Jewel Seeds!’_ she gasped. _‘They have tonnes of magic in them!’_

The great mage inclined her head confirming the point. “Enough that they replenish the mana lost to the AMF before it weakens the spell in the slightest,” she agreed. “And these are but one artefact. The denizens of Alhazred had many. While they may be lost or trapped in the deepest reaches of Imaginary Space, I think it is almost certain that they are nonetheless still there. I had always known it to be true, even when others doubted, but this is real and concrete proof that it _is_ possible.

“And thus we come to the change in our plans. Alicia requires a new form of life support, a compact one fed by a Jewel Seed directly. I have already tested the design, and it functions quite adequately. In theory, it would sustain her even if exposed directly to Imaginary Space. Within the shielded tunnel I will be creating – which should protect the familiars as well, you needn’t worry for them – she will be perfectly safe for the entire trip there, and potentially as long as is needed to revive her, should I pass on before she wakes.”

“Mother! Don’t say that!” Fate protested. Precia raised a hand to forestall her.

“I assure you, Fate, I have every intention of living to see my daughter revived. I am merely covering every possibility. If the reserves of mana within the Jewel Seeds have a limit, it is so incalculably vast that I cannot determine it. Her life support will function for as long as it needs to. A system to keep her vital organs functioning, and her body from degrading.” She pursed her lips. “The Life-Maintaining Jewel Seed Implant.”

Fate, Arf and Linith seemed to accept this, but Nanoha made a wordless sound of protect. Precia raised a sculpted eyebrow at her.

“Nanoha-san? You have an objection?”

Nanoha squirmed slightly. “Well… I mean… it’s…” She seemed almost ready to drop it, but then burst out, “it’s not… not _cool_ enough sounding, though!”

There was a pause. Apparently deciding to go for broke, Nanoha barrelled onwards. “It needs a _special_ name, something cool and mythic-sounding! Like the... probe thingies, that were named after a god! And the planets!” She thought hard, her face scrunching in concentration.

“I saw a show with Greek things in it, there was someone... Pluto! Yeah! He was the god of the dead, and that’s what we’re bringing Alicia-chan back from… oh, but that would be Plutonian, and that sounds like plutonium, and that's nuclear and that's bad. Um… then… oh! Oh, I know! Prometheus! Uh... I can't remember the details, but he stole fire and knowledge from the gods to give them to mankind! And I think he got punished for it... but then someone freed him... or something. I can't remember that bit. Ow!”

She glared down at Vesta, who had just innocently and quietly dug a claw into her leg to get her to stop talking. But the distraction appeared to do its work, at least as far as stopping Nanoha’s rambling went, and she fell into a nervous silence as she waited for a reaction.

Precia didn’t seem annoyed, though. If anything, she seemed mildly amused.

“Prometheus,” she mused, shaping her tongue around the unfamiliar syllables. “Promethean. Yes... yes, very well. You have helped tremendously in this, Nanoha-san, so it is only fair that you should help name it.” She smiled, with a hint of triumph. “As this... Prometheus, took fire and knowledge from the gods, so we shall take life for dear Alicia. A flame to keep her warm and safe on the journey to Alhazred, and to light our way. A name of…” she smirked briefly, “gravitas, shall we say?”

Nanoha blushed. She couldn’t imagine the tall, composed woman saying ‘cool’.

Precia stood, tall and proud. “I will begin the preparations to decant Alicia and install the...” she paused for a second, thinking, “yes, the Promethean Metabolic Auxiliary Mechanism. That shall be its name. It will take some time, though, so we must move quickly. The Bureau will track us down within the week – we _must_ have Alicia prepared for the journey and set up the ritual before they arrive. I will be depending on you to defend the Garden should they arrive earlier than we might hope.”

Mirrored expressions of resolve met hers, and had they known how to salute, they probably would have done so. “We will!” they chorused in near-perfect unison. Precia nodded.

“You have by gratitude. Now, the Garden has its own defences – old, and still in good repair. I believe Nanoha-san has already encountered the lowest level of guardian drones. I will use the surplus Jewel Seeds to bring these defences online if the TSAB attack. One of you – Nanoha-san, I think – will need to direct the external defences. Fate, you will coordinate the internal defences. Linith, please show them their stations should they be required to take them, and instruct them on the command codes. I realise it will take time for them to memorise the proper phonetic and tonal representation of the cuneiform, but I have faith in you. I will be in my laboratory should you need me. Do not disturb me for anything but serious matters.”

She turned to go. Over her shoulder, she threw one last parting remark. “We will do this,” she assured them. “Regardless of any obstacles in our path, we will succeed. That much, I can promise you.”

…

It had been a while since Rizu had been home, but the dining room looked exactly the same through the holoscreen. Well, mostly the same. There were a couple of stains that were new, and she was relatively sure that a vase that had been on the windowsill when she left was no longer there.

It did not take a genius to determine the likely cause of the changes. Her mother had rather liked that vase, after all. Rizu quietly crossed her fingers and hoped fervently that either her room was locked, or that anything breakable had been moved onto the high shelves. Or into a locked cupboard.

Saralyn cleared her throat, bringing Rizu’s attention back to the screen. She had her arms folded, and was giving her the admonishing expression that had, in Rizu’s childhood, almost always been directed at Mei.

It hadn’t worked then, either.

“Well,” Saralyn remarked. “It’s nice that you’ve finally called home. I suppose I have Tiida-san to thank for that?” Her tone was sardonic, but she was smiling as she said it. The redheaded lieutenant sitting beside her shrugged.

“I mentioned that I was going to call Tea again, and she asked if she could join me,” he said. Which wasn’t _exactly_ the whole of the truth, but it was close enough. And it made her mother brighten up and stop guilt-tripping her, which was also nice.

After the mandatory exchanges of “how are you?” and updating each other on what had recently happened in their lives, Tiida asked the question that had been bugging Rizu, too.

“Out of interest, where’s Tea? I would have thought she’d be down here like a shot once she realised who was on the comm.”

Saralyn sighed wearily, and sat down on the couch. “She’s decided to be difficult this week, so she’s currently in detention at school.” She glanced at the time readout. “Well, actually she’s probably on her way home by now… I think she’s starting to get restless with you being gone. I caught her jumping off the table yesterday, still trying to fly.”

“Sorry, she…” Saralyn waved a hand, brushing off Tiida’s apology.

“I think once I would have cared, but after Mei I'm just glad that she was jumping into cushions,” she sighed. “At least… oh, not again.” The sound of crying was faintly audible, coming from somewhere upstairs. Saralyn palmed her face. “He’s had a bout of something, I think it might be that cough from last week… do you want to call me back later? Half an hour, say. She should be home by- wait, no. Here she is now. Tea!”

The harassed-looking mother moved offscreen, and Tiida traded a wince of sympathy with Rizu. “I feel sort of sorry for asking her to do this now,” he admitted guiltily. “Tea can be a lot to handle.”

Rizu patted him gingerly on the arm, trying hard not to blush. “However bad she is, Mei was worse,” she assured him. “And I think mother likes having children around the place. She always said that the trials of raising me and Mei were worth it for the joys of seeing us grow.” A pause. “Well, she said that some of the time. The times when she wasn’t getting Mei down from trees, or explaining to the teachers why she had been fighting or slacking off. Again. I... I think she would have had more, but... well, she split up with my father and Mei's dad died. And then... there wasn't anyone else. Not for quite a while.”

“At least you have a brother now… well, half-brother, anyway.”

Rizu smiled fondly. “Yes. I was studying hard to get into the Bureau while she and Bence were dating, and I was in boot camp by the time they really got serious. But she seems happy, and she dotes over Thom. He’s… yes, I think he’s going to be two in a few days.” She blushed. “Um. I guess we’ll miss his birthday because of… this thing.”

Further conversation was interrupted by a slightly grimy six-year old running onscreen, shrieking with excitement and anger.

“Tiida! You have to come home right now! Or else!” She noticed the girl sitting next to her brother and shifted demeanour seamlessly. “Oh, hi Miss Rizu. It’s very nice to see you.” And then segued straight back to furious. “Tiida! You’ve been away _forever_ and if you don’t come back _right away_ then I’ll hate you forever and ever and _ever_. Aunty Saralyn is nice, but her baby is really loud and cries a lot and I can’t get to sleep, and I haven’t been in my own bed for ages and I want your help with my homework again! You’re better at explaining it than Aunty Sara. So come back and get me right away.”

She put her hands on her hips and turned to the door, as if expecting Tiida to walk through it immediately. After a few seconds, she shot a glare at the comm window and began tapping her foot expectantly.

Tiida felt very much like beating his head against his desk. Happily, before he could wearily attempt to explain things to his little sister, Rizu took over.

“I’m afraid your brother c-can’t do that, Tea. We’ll be able to come home soon, but right now we’re getting ready to arrest the criminals responsible for the big threat, and bring them in for the Bureau. So if you just sit tight a little longer, T-Tiida will be back with exciting stories about how we c-caught them. Okay? And I’m sure that you can imagine how you could help if you were here, and practice your training exercises to get better for when you can join up.”

Orange-red hair fell to one side as Teana tilted her head, giving this due consideration. “… okay,” she eventually decided. “But the stories had better be _really_ good to make up for me having to listen to Thom crying for any longer. And you have to bring me back a present!”

She stamped her foot to get her brother’s attention back on her from where he had been staring in some surprise at Rizu. “Alright, alright!” he chuckled. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll not only bring you back a picture book from this Unadministered World, I’ll get a TSAB Investigator to sign it for you. She’s called Quint –I bet she’d like you.”

Tea’s eyes lit up.

“Really?!” she gasped excitedly. “What’s she like? Is she really powerful? Can she fly? What magic does she use? Has she arrested a lot of people? What does she investigate? Would she teach me stuff? Can I talk to her? Is she there now? Oh! Wait! I have something to show you!” In a blur, she was off the couch and out of the door, speeding up to her bedroom. A little dazed from the rapid-fire barrage of questions, Tiida let out something that was half chuckle, half sigh.

“You’ve done it now,” he murmured in an amused, exasperated tone. “She’ll be on about this for months, probably. Though… well handled. Really. I’ve never seen someone defuse her that well, even I can’t do it.”

Rizu’s blush ramped up a few more degrees, and she became ever more hyper-aware of the body heat from where they were almost touching, sitting next to each other in one of the staff common rooms. “Um… it’s nothing, really,” she mumbled back. Now was not the time to get tongue-tied. She had to stay coherent and not dissolve into unintelligible stuttering, even if Tiida was looking at her with a hint of what might be interest- no! No no no, she couldn’t think about that or she’d blush hard enough that he’d notice easily and not be able to speak and…

“I-it’s from g-growing up with Mei,” she forced out. “You learn to d-distract… um… energetic children. It’s not too hard once y-you know what sort of thing to say.”

He chuckled. “If you’re this good at stopping her from flying into a temper, maybe I should start asking you over to help handle her when we get back. I’m definitely going to have to find a really big way to say ‘thank you’ to your mother for this. Tea hated the care facilities I had to put her in last time.” He grinned again, and Rizu abruptly found her lap very interesting as she prayed that her skin tone would hide the way her cheeks were colouring at the suggestion.

She was saved by Tea’s return.

“Tiida! Look!” The screen jolted from a hand stuck through it as Tea clambered back up onto the couch to sit on the back, and reformed to show her proudly holding out her prizes. Tiida blinked, not quite trusting his eyes.

“Those are… are those _guns?_ ”

Tea actually hopped up and down in triumph, rocking the couch rather alarmingly and drawing several creaking protests from the back, which she ignored entirely. “Yuh huh! They’re like your gun-Devices, because we did paper-mache and cardboard stuff at school and I wanted to be like you, so I made myself guns like you have! Look, I can make them glow orange!” She demonstrated, and indeed the glow around the roughly handgun-shaped masses of cardboard and paper was a fiery orange, several shades brighter than her hair.

“And I can shoot things too! But not with them. The shooting is me. And Aunty Sara said I’m not allowed to do that inside. Not anymore. Or outside either, after the branch thing. So I pretend-shoot things instead, like this!” She took aim at him through the screen and flared the light around the barrels. “Pew pew pew! Ha! I just shot you, and you’re not wearing a Barrier Jacket so you’re knocked out now and I win!”

Tiida mimed a choked ‘urk’, clutching at his chest and slumping dramatically backwards as the little girl cheered her victory. Rizu smiled shyly. Despite the stress of the past few days, he seemed much happier talking to his little sister. He was lively and friendly, playing along with her antics and encouraging her imagination. Someday – and here her blush returned – he would make a wonderful father.

“Ah,” she interjected, forcing down the shyness again. Tea’s presence made it easier – she didn’t understand or care about romance at that age, and her childish enthusiasm made it impossible not to want to play along. “But I’m a healing mage! So I can make him better again!” She summoned up a ball of turquoise light – no real structure or healing magic, just a glow to her hands – and hovered it over Tiida’s chest where he had been ‘shot’, realising only as she did so how much it probably looked like she was… well, running her hands all over his chest.

Her cheeks heated again. It was very, very embarrassing. And if Mei or Heidi – let alone someone she didn’t really know – walked in on her and Tiida… um… playing, like this, she would be mortified.

But Tea’s gasp of delight at a new element to add to her games, along with the wink that Tiida threw her as he was ‘revived’, made it more than worth it. And even if Tiida still seemed unaware of her crush – something she wasn’t sure if she was disappointed at or thankful for – the chance to make some of her daydreams come true in a deniable way wasn’t one she was going to pass up.

It was certainly more enjoyable than pouring over more medical textbooks and trying not to think about how she might have to use the knowledge within on her friends.

…

They didn’t know how much time they had to prepare. And so they made full use of it.

Arf threw herself at her opponent again, shifting out of the way and putting up a barrier to block its sword as it lunged. Linith had activated two or three of the robot drones for them to spar against, as a way of testing the limits of the guardian constructs. And also to hone their own skills further, of course.

Blocking another backhanded swing, and deflecting a punch that could probably have shattered stone, Arf had to admit that they were fairly impressive. The armour wasn’t bulky, but it was tough enough that it took quite a forceful spell to penetrate it, and the systems within were surprisingly resistant to damage. It was quick – not to the level of a mage, but fast-moving nonetheless – and its attacks were basic but functional. Alone, the drone didn’t pose a huge threat to a reasonably powerful or experienced mage.

In large numbers, though? Oh yes, she could definitely see these things being dangerous.

She finally managed to get a bind on it that stuck, which it couldn’t get out of by casually reversing a couple of its joints. That was a trick that she had not been pleased to discover when it had first shown it, just after she had jumped on its back to pin it down. She tied it securely to the floor, waited for Linith to signal a win, and then backed off.

“Good, Arf,” Linith complimented her. “And when you’re directing them, remember they can network. What one of them can see, all the nearby ones see. They’re quite a bit more effective together than apart. Vesta? Your turn now, come on.”

Arf nodded easily as the grey-furred feline slunk past her to square off against the drone. “I’ll remember,” she yawned, shifting down into her wolf form. _‘Where’s Fate?’_

Linith motioned down the hall, past a couple of experimental potted plants that hadn’t reacted well to the light conditions on the Garden. “That way. She was practicing with Nanoha, last I saw.” Arf huffed happily in thanks, and trotted off down the corridor.

The fur down her spine prickled, but she paid it little heed. It had been doing that for almost a day now, since Precia’s announcement of the plan. The TSAB were inexorably drawing closer, and the pall of tension that had settled over the Garden was noticeable wherever you went.

Nanoha and Fate, when she found them, were not practicing. Scorch marks on the walls of the high-ceilinged room showed that they had been, but now they were huddled over a map of the Garden, conferring with one another in low voices. Arf trotted over and nuzzled a cold nose into the crook of Fate’s neck in greeting.

“Ah! Oh, Arf.” Fate swatted her lightly on the muzzle. “Don’t do that.”

 _‘Hello to you too,’_ Arf greeted her shamelessly. _‘What are we doing here?’_

Nanoha motioned to the map, a holographic representation of the Garden that currently showed a cross-section of the palatial structure. “We’re trying to work out how the TSAB is going to get in,” she explained. “Fate suggested we could seal off some of the obvious passages and leave just a few open, so we’d know which way they’d go. And that could keep them away from Precia-sama as well.”

 _‘Hey, good idea!’_ Arf shifted around to look at the graph, frowned, and shifted back to human. “Oh, right. The red bits are the corridors you’re going to block, yeah? How about… here, too. And maybe here.”

“That would force them down to the lower decks,” Nanoha said hesitantly. “Oh, wait, I see. We don’t even need to follow them down there, it’s so big and easy to get lost that we can just ignore them if they go that way.”

“Yup! Oh, have you looked at the external defences? What are they like?”

Nanoha didn’t seem to hear her for a few seconds, absorbed in studying the map. Belatedly, she looked up as the question registered. “Huh? Oh, yes. They’re bombardment spells, mostly. Linith made me memorise all the command codes.” She half-sung, half-spoke a sequence of nine syllables, pitching her voice perfectly to carry around the room. She had a nice singing voice, Fate noticed, high and pure. “That begins the initial charge-up sequence for one of the cannons. Raising Heart can’t interface with the system properly, so I’ll have to fire them manually, but I should be able to batter the shields of any ships that get too close and stop them from firing. And at least Raising Heart can show me the sounds I have to make if I forget.”

Fate nodded. “That should work to keep the brunt of the assault off us. Be careful.” She stood, and Nanoha looked up in surprise.

“You’re going somewhere?”

“Yes…” Fate coloured slightly. “I have faith that this will work. But… just in case something happens to me… I need to visit Alicia. For the last time. Once this is over, she’ll be out of her tank, and I’ll either be with her or… won’t.” She smiled ruefully. “I’d rather go alone, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course!” Nanoha agreed readily. “I wouldn’t dream of intruding.” She got to her feet and gave Fate a quick hug. “Tell her ‘hi’ from me, okay? I’ll go check on my post again.” She left at a brisk trot, and Fate watched her go before turning her own steps to the centre of the Garden.

Alicia’s tank had already been modified in preparation for her decanting, but for now the little girl still floated in the embrace of the softly glowing liquid that surrounded her. Fate ran a hand over the glass, taking in the features she knew so well. Things had come a long way since the first time she had met her little sister.

“Alicia,” she murmured, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb Precia in the next room. “I won’t be seeing you like this again. When the dust settles from this, you’ll be awake again, and happy.” She hugged the glass, stretching her arms out as wide as she could across the smooth surface. “I’ll do my best to protect you,” she promised. “I’ll make sure nobody gets in to attack you or Mother. I know you must be impatient, but just wait a little longer. Soon you’ll be better again.”

The girl behind the glass didn’t reply. Her eyes were closed, and her hair fanned out behind her like a halo on the minute currents within the liquid. Beneath her pale skin, her heart and organs were kept alive yet unbeating by the mechanisms of the tank. Her unthinking brain was slowed to a crawl, perhaps one heartbeat’s worth of time separating it from how it had been when she had been immersed in the tank, and she hung suspended in a fragile web of magic that kept her body from the ravages of time. A porcelain statue, frozen for more than twenty years.

But as Fate pressed a kiss to the glass and departed, her boots clicking softly against the polished floor, she liked to imagine that her little sister was smiling.

…


	13. Chapter Twelve

It had started.

A controlled state of chaos reigned on the bridge. The quiet but intense chatter of the technical staff, the murmuring smart systems and the low screech of the alarms filled the air. Lindy stood tall at her station, snapping out orders as quickly as the information came in. Yuuno, Chrono and the backup team stood tensely behind her in various states of nervous anticipation.

“The signal has died down, admiral,” offered Amy, “but the initial pulse was enough to trace it back to their location, and we can still pick up the mana traces now that she’s started. Whatever she’s doing, it’s big. All ships have confirmed the coordinates of the point of origin and have moved to full combat readiness.”

“Good,” Lindy nodded. “What’s our ETA?”

“We were already close when the pulse went out. A few minutes… ten at the most, but the tides are shifting, so it’s hard to say.”

“Picket ship Mithra says there's a realspace bubble up ahead!” one of the communications officers called out, raising his voice. “Admiral, it’s right where the spike came from!”

Lindy nodded, and swallowed. “Admiral Nunes, did you hear that?” she asked her fellow officer, over on his own cruiser.

“Looks like we’ve found them,” he agreed. His face was grim and grizzled, a fine coating of stubble showing on his chin and cheeks. “Raise shields now. We don’t want to be caught off guard by any nasty surprises. Officer Eshrill,” he added, turning his attention to someone offscreen, “get me a maximum boarding distance the teleports will work at. If Testarossa is anything like her reputation makes her out to be, it’s not going to be easy getting close to this thing.”

“We’ll run our own scans and correlate with your results,” Lindy offered. “It should be quicker with several ships working on it. Where’s Captain Grangaitz?”

“Here,” rumbled gravelly tones from the door to the bridge. Zest entered, followed by Quint and Lotte. The latter caught sight of Chrono and waved cheerfully at him, as well as throwing Yuuno a wink and a mouthed ‘hi Mousey’. Yuuno shivered, and tried not to look like he was edging behind Chrono. He was starting to suspect that cat-familiars as a whole had it in for him.

“We’re close, then?” Zest asked. He and Quint were in their barrier jackets, and Lotte was wearing a short black and grey dress that gave the impression of being a lot sturdier than it looked. She carried two long, thin sticks with the casual ease of one who knew how to use them, and showed a hint of fang as she grinned toothily and bounced on her heels. She would be taking Megane’s customary place. Frankly, Lindy was glad that Warrant Officer Alpine was safely off the ship and had given birth. It meant that she got to avoid the argument where she had to try to forbid a heavily pregnant and mulishly stubborn woman from taking to the field in this situation.

“We should be in sight any second,” confirmed Lindy, glancing at the two huge displays at the front of the bridge. “Are you all ready to board?”

The adults barely reacted past a distracted nod, and in Lotte’s case a cheerful thumbs-up. Chrono’s face was stoic, but Lindy could see the carefully suppressed tension and fear beneath it. Yuuno looked a little sickly, but he schooled his face into a pale mask of determination and attempted a brave smile.

The backup team stood with rather more nervousness, though. Even Mei’s cheerfulness seemed dampened by the tension; she was bouncing on the balls of her feet impatiently and her eyes were fixed to the screen. Heidi was all but pacing, and Rizu was trembling slightly. They hadn’t even seen the amount of combat Yuuno had, and despite their training they knew that they were amongst the weakest mages participating in the assault.

“No,” said Tiida bluntly. “I… if I can be frank, Admiral, I raised my objections before, and I’ll raise them again. My team is not ready for this. There’s no way that they should be dragged onto this assault. Two of them are C-rank, for goodness sake! And the B-ranker isn't suited at all for close assaults! I can understand myself, but under field regulations they…”

“You’re all going,” Lindy cut him off. “I’m sorry, and I understand your objections. But I fear we’ll need every medic we can get in this attack, and Private Jhanashdi is trained in combat-healing. You and the rest of your squad are there to guard her and help supply power. We’re overriding all the normal deployment rules here, because this is a potential gigadeath scenario”

Tiida’s face moved through several emotions before settling on resignation. That was the fundamental problem. It was that bad. “Yes, but…”

Lindy pinned him with a serious look, and his protestations melted at the steadfastness of her decision. A flicker of sympathy crossed her face at the tense lines of concern written in his body language, and she took a moment to console him. “If it helps, Lieutenant, you won’t be in the first wave. We’ve got a team of A-rankers going in first; they’ll clear a path for you. And… I am sorry that this has to be done.”

He still wasn’t entirely happy about it, but he nodded and made no further protest, stepping back to wait with his team. Onscreen, the edge of the realspace bubble loomed closer, and Lindy leaned forwards in anticipation.

“Alright then. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

A brief flare of scintillating purple light distorted the view for a second as they passed into the pocket of stable space generated around the Garden of Time, and the structure itself came into view on the magnified view. Someone behind Lindy drew in a sharp breath, and Quint muttered a mild curse under her breath.

It was vast. Easily five or six times the Asura’s length in diameter and twice that in height, it towered over the fleet assembled to assault it as if some cosmic hand had wrenched an entire island loose from its moorings and set it adrift in the Dimensional Sea.

The exact shape of the structure was difficult to see, though, under the masses of spikes that adorned it. Each huge stalagmite and stalactite was easily large enough to impale the smaller picket ships clean through, and they clustered thickly over the surface of the floating leviathan. Enormous gemstones were set between them, in geometric positions around the rim of the huge edifice, far larger than any natural process could have possibly created. Some of the larger ones were dozens of metres across, and shone with a deep, menacing violet light, while the smaller ones glowed sky-blue and seemed to ripple oddly at the fleet’s approach.

Lindy’s lips made a thin line as she took it in. She glanced at Zest and Quint, who were watching with similar expressions. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it,” she commented. “Any idea what it is?”

Zest nodded at Yuuno in answer. The young archaeologist was almost shaking with excitement. “Scrya?” he prompted. “You’re the expert on ancient history. Care to share with us?”

The words seemed to pull Yuuno back from somewhere very far away. He glanced at the taller man in what appeared to be mild surprise that he was still there. “Uh… yes,” he said distractedly before his gaze was dragged magnetically back to the screen. “Um… what can I say, what can I say? This… it looks like a Meso-Urahnian relic, of extraordinary complexity for something this far out from their core territories. It might even have ridden the shockwave from the Fall of Alhazred! Um… it… it was probably built using the Alhazredian technique of Dimensional Layering. You create a dimensional barrier over an area, and then anchor it on a power source. That gets you a clone of the underlying terrain… dimensional barriers work by creating a sort of imprint in the surface of a dimension, protruding slightly into the dimensional sea. A bit like stamping a mould into wet clay, sort of – that’s why the terrain is copied, and why damaging it doesn’t do anything to the real world.”

He paused to take a breath, eyes shining as he took in the details of the looming mountain. “So the dimensional phase-shift gets you a clone of the terrain, and then you can build on it to create a pocket… a pocket world, almost. Some of the best-preserved sites I’ve worked on have been like that, dimensionally-shifted facilities completely untouched by weather or wear or people. But nothing like this!

“You realise this probably detached from its underlying anchor? If it wasn't done deliberately, it probably happened in the Fall of Alhazred! That thing has been floating in the Dimensional Sea for three thousand years! Maybe… maybe there are even the skeletons of the people manning it, if they didn't have cleaning spells set up, or Testarossa hasn't ruined the interior too much! I… don't suppose you… you can take it intact? Please?”

Zest gave him a flat, level stare. It communicated a great deal about the mission’s priorities and the place of avoiding collateral damage took among them.

“But… it's priceless!” Yuuno protested. “I’m not exaggerating there, I mean it is quite literally priceless! There's… there's no record of anything at all this intact! It's… this is the kind of thing the Yeventines must have found, two millennia ago! The things we could learn! The samples of text! There… there might be caches in there! Or machines! Or even living quarters, preserved since…”

“Uh, question!” Mei interjected, cutting off Yuuno’s rambling to general, albeit unspoken, relief. “Do you think it always looked so spiky and evil?”

Far from being annoyed at the interruption, Yuuno’s eyes lit up. “That's just one of the things we could find out! It's possible it didn't! Some old Alhazredian ruins show signs of being able to dynamically remodel their interiors. And if not, there must be a reason for the spikes! Perhaps some sort of power generator, or sensor network, or… oh, the sheer amount of information in that station!”

Lindy tuned them out as Zest stepped a little closer and lowered his voice to address her and Nunes. “Honestly, Admirals, I’m not sure we want this intact,” he said. “Didn't the Yeventines build their domain on platforms like this? Out here in the back of beyond, this could destabilise the entire region.”

She nodded. “The thought had crossed my mind. Though on the other hand, it would make a useful fleet anchorage for me. We need more bases out here.”

“Well, we need to take the thing before we can decide what to do with it,” Nunes said. “Have we got an estimate on the teleport range yet?”

Lindy’s gaze swept across the screens. “Not on this end. It should be coming soon though, we…”

“Admiral!” came a cry from the other side of the connection. “A strong magical build-up has been detected in one of the smaller gems! From the readings… it’s not just decoration! It’s a weapon! It’s getting ready to fire!”

Lindy blanched, abandoning the conversation and turning to her own bridge crew as Nunes began to bark orders. “They’ve noticed us!” she snapped out. “Take what evasive action we can, strengthen the shields and brace yourselves! Our period of grace is over! The assault has begun!”

…

Fate stared at the artwork carved into the wall. There was no colour on it; all the shading came from the various patterns and depths of the engraving, which had further textures carved deeper into the sides of the cuts. It was perplexing up close, but from a distance, it almost managed to look like a greyscale image.

The style was… peculiar. There was use of perspective, but only on the backdrop. The humans in the image were all very stylised, in one way or another. Perhaps they were meant to represent something more generic; Fate didn't know. Only one of them was done in a realistic style, and she was the one in the centre, floating in the air in the centre of what looked to be the control chamber Nanoha was now in.

The blonde blushed. The realistic figure was most certainly a she, because she was wearing no clothes. There were things on her body which were either tattoos or some kind of spiralling jewellery, but even with the relative lack of detail, there was little to conceal her full-busted nudity. Her hair fanned out, up and around her, forming a great halo-wheel. There was a second halo around her, which Fate thought was probably some kind of magic, from the scattered cuneiform which you could see making it up if you looked really close.

And there was something about her eyes which reminded her of Nanoha. It wasn't the facial details, or the shape of the chin, or the colour and shading, or even the shape of the eyes, because none of those were anything like her friend. But there was something about the stare which Fate recognised.

This ancient woman, no doubt aeons dead, stared out of this mural with that same iron-hard certainty, that utter force of will which Nanoha had and Fate so admired. She knew she didn't have the same will. Mother said she was too soft, too kind-hearted, and Fate knew it was true. She hated hurting people, even when they got in the way of their quest to save her sister, and she could only do it without feeling guilty when she was angry.

She could force herself to do so despite that, drawing a stony resolve from the mental image of her sister’s floating form, but she still didn’t like it. Fighting Nanoha, before the native girl had joined her, had been _hard_ , every time they had clashed. Not because of her skills – though those were improving at an alarming rate –but because she was more or less innocent, and yet Fate couldn’t let her interfere.

It was for the best that Mother had put Nanoha on the external defences, Fate knew, and not just because her talent for long-range shooting magic outstripped Fate’s own. If Fate were doing it, she would probably pause, wait too long before firing. She would be best up close, in these confines, where the speed of combat would enable her to act without hesitation.

Maybe Mother… maybe Mother was taking advantage of the native girl's lack of knowledge of what Alhazredian weapons could do. It was a bad thought for her, which left her feeling unpleasant. And that was another sign she was too soft-hearted, because she was doing this for Alicia's sake, and she should be willing to do anything, just like Mother was. But… but maybe things wouldn't be so bad. Linith said they had never actually tested the systems, because without the Jewel Seeds there wasn't enough power, and anyway Mother was too ill to deal with the stress of handling them unless she really had to. And they didn't want to lead the TSAB to them. So… so maybe the weapons wouldn't be that bad. And TSAB ships had strong shields, right?

Light flashed in front of her, and Fate refocused. The entire piece of art was glowing from within. Instantly, she dropped down into a guard, Bardiche in hand, but the white glow only seemed to be a source of illumination. Then she gasped. The glowing symbols, the cuneiform which were indentations on the metal were _moving_ , crawling around over the surface like oil on water. Wide-eyed, Fate stared at them as the cuneiform layer of magic over the ancient naked woman glowed brighter and brighter, until it was too white-hot-burning to look at.

And then the light flashed to pink, and Fate felt the entire Garden shift under her. A noise in the background which she had not even noticed stopped, and was replaced by a slow deep pulse. Like a heartbeat, she thought, and then rather wished that hadn't occurred to her.

Opening her eyes again, the artwork had changed. The room shown had not changed. The stylised figures bent in supplication were no different.

But Nanoha now stared out of the picture, her hair fanning out around her, her body almost totally obscured by hundreds of lines of glowing pink ancient script. Iron-willed and confident, her friend's image took the place of whatever ancient mage had been there.

Well. Linith had said they were starting up the defences. So… so that probably meant the system bypass Mother said she had devised to allow a modern mage to be recognised as a valid user worked. So… Fate swallowed and gripped her Device. It was time for her to go to the place where Linith had told her to be ready, where she could get to any point on the Garden in the least possible time. Mother would have only plugged the spare Jewel Seeds into the power systems if she was about to begin, and that meant that this was it.

Fate bowed her head, and shuddered, nausea and fear overcoming her. But when she looked up again, her red eyes were calm.

“Alicia…” she whispered softly, the name almost lost under the clatter of her metal boots against the ancient floor as she moved to her waiting point.

…

“Nanoha?” Linith’s voice prompted through the communications link. “We’ve sighted TSAB ships approaching. It’s time to start.”

Nanoha nodded, and took a deep breath. She hung suspended at the centre of a spherical chamber, floating as if suspended in water. Dozens of screens were arrayed around her, a second sphere of spun light and magic within the larger chamber. Her hair floated behind her in the zero-gravity conditions, but luckily it seemed to have something which kept it out of her face. It was just as well. Inhaling hair would probably be a bad thing when doing this.

“Raising Heart,” she said, forcing herself to be calm. Her heart was beating like a drum, and she had to ignore the squirming feeling in her guts. “Display Precia-sama's translated notes.”

[Yes, my master,] said the device, bringing up a pink glowing display matrix in front of her. Elements of it more resembled a songsheet than anything else; it had been a useful suggestion from Linith that they display the ‘notes’ in that fashion.

“Okay,” Nanoha breathed. “Here we go.” She began the first sequence, her voice high and tentative, but clear. A little wavering speck of light on the display in front of her tracked her progress as she sang.

[Primary input sequence begin,] her Device translated. [Request for genetic scan… overridden. Activating bypass. Accessing user files - keynote Precia. Password - Alhazredian Access Files One.]

There was a near-silent hum, and the air was suddenly filled with the scent of ozone. Light flared all around Nanoha, the inner core her own native pink, while the outer halo was blindingly white.

Raising Heart crackled briefly, and Fate’s voice came through a voice-only link. “Nanoha?” she queried, “The whole Garden just shifted. Was that you connecting to the system?”

“Ah, yes!” Nanoha looked around, noting the slight changes in the cuneiform that lined the walls of the chamber she floated in. She could _feel_ the systems she was tied into, the complexity and scale of them. “It’s a little disorienting, but… I think I’m on top of it. And Raising Heart is here to help me.”

There was a pause before Fate spoke again. “Alright,” she acknowledged. “The TSAB are here, then? Be careful. I know you’re good at shooting magic, but…” She trailed off awkwardly, and then asked quickly. “You are wearing your Barrier Jacket, aren’t you?”

Nanoha frowned in confusion. That was an odd question. “… yes,” she confirmed, adjusting the white hood behind her neck. Vesta wasn’t sitting in it today; she was just outside the door of the chamber along with the group of mecha that Precia had assigned as Nanoha’s bodyguards. “Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to do this in my pyjamas.”

“… okay then. Just be careful, alright?” Fate repeated. “These weapons might be… they’re powerful. Start small. We just have to keep them from getting close.”

That was more understandable. Nanoha smiled softly, recognising that her friend was worried about her. “Don’t worry, Fate-chan,” she reassured. “I’ll be careful, and we’ll both be fine. With a bit of luck, they won’t even get close enough to board! Sorry if it gets boring for you!”

She couldn’t see it, but she was willing to bet that the comment had drawn one of the subtle half-smiles that Fate expressed her amusement with. She could certainly hear it in the other girl’s voice as she dryly replied “I think Arf and I can cope with boredom, if it comes to that,” before disconnecting.

[Now, my master. Begin,] Raising Heart instructed.

Nanoha began, repeating the nonsense words in front of her exactly as they were displayed. Not only the pronunciation, but also the intonation had to be spot on, for it was as much a song as a passcode. Floating around her, a bar slowly filled to halfway – one of Raising Heart's overlays which the original system lacked.

[Charge Glyph Input. Please repeat.]

She did so. The bar filled up all the way.

[Second Charge Glyph Entered.] The words displayed by the Device changed.

The nine-year old girl, child of a backwater planet, swallowed nervously. It was six syllables for her to fire this, and the only surprise was how easy they were compared to the more complicated charge sequence.

The Garden pulsed, as a single example of one of the lightest weapons on it fired.

…

The beam was about as thick as a tree-trunk – not much, on the scale of spaceships like the Asura. But it blazed like a blinding bolt of actinic lightning as it shot out, lancing across the distance between the Garden and the fleet in a heartbeat and leaving brilliant streaks on the vision of everyone watching as it faded away.

It also utterly failed to connect with any of the ships, passing more than a ships-length from one of the destroyers at its closest.

Nonetheless, the reactions of the TSAB were dramatic. Nunes swore, alarms blared and Lindy shot to her feet. “Spread out!” she ordered. “Stay far enough apart that they can’t get a clear shot at more than one ship! Captain Grangaitz, did you see that?”

Zest was as fixated on the displays as she was, and his gaze didn’t flicker from them as he replied. “I did. Pink-edged white. It’s the Takamachi girl on the cannons. I guess Testarossa decided to make use of her talent for shooting magic.”

“Nanoha wouldn’t hurt anyone!” Yuuno objected, but Lindy cut him off with a quick glance.

“She may not mean to – that could have been bad aim or a warning shot. But just because she doesn’t mean to doesn’t mean that she might not have an accident, or make a mistake. I doubt she can control those systems properly.” She raised her voice. “Amy! Do we have an estimate yet on teleport range?”

By way of reply, the overhead displays reshuffled to make way for a new screen, showing a simulated 3D map of their target, with their own ships marked as pulsing dots. A pale sphere surrounded the structure at the centre of the map, the edges about halfway between the Garden itself and their current location. Parts of the Garden itself were tinted a deep shade of red, mostly internal parts.

“The sphere is teleport range to the external parts of the target, Admiral,” Amy called up. “But there are heavy wards on the interior, especially around the very centre. That’s probably where Testarossa is. We won’t be able to transport anything in there; our teams will have to push in from the outside.”

“Noted,” Lindy nodded. “In that case, we…”

She was cut off as another bolt of blinding light flashed out from the gem and struck the Asura dead on the nose. It broke against a curved shield, streams of power splitting off the beam as it failed to break through the shielding. The blow still rattled the ship, though, and the flash of the impact left everyone on the bridge blinking spots out of their eyes as the lights flickered and dimmed briefly, power drawn away from them to support the shield.

“Any damage?” Lindy asked almost before the light had faded, her hands moving rapidly over the screens popping up around her. She answered her own question before anyone else could, “No, it doesn’t look like it. Alright, people! Our shields can take that level of ordinance, but we still don’t want to risk anything bigger! Start moving, and return fire as much as possible! Aim for the gems, and see if we can’t knock a few holes in the hull to board through! And get us inside that teleport range!”

People scrambled to obey, even as more of the gems began to glow. A handful of seconds later, the space between the two sides lit up as magical artillery roared.

…

Nanoha sang, her voice now tinted with a hint of desperation.

The ships were moving now, not clumped together like they had been. Raising Heart had activated the aiming systems, and now she floated in the anti-gravity chamber surrounded by a sphere of screens, turning with a thought to look at one or the other. Some of them were screens to the outside, showing the ships that were spreading out to surround the Garden. Others were prompts, displaying the chord-songs she had to sing to operate the systems. Others showed the Garden itself, information she didn’t quite understand that dealt with power flows, shifting glyphs overlaying walls and floors, and lines of calligraphy connected by arrow-line to key locations within. Since she couldn’t actually read any of those and none of the glowing power lines or glyph-marked architectural bits were doing anything, she felt fairly safe in ignoring those screens.

Instead, she focused her attention on firing the weapons systems. It wasn’t that it was hard to fire them as such – she was getting a bit better at aiming, and the charging sequences were all similar. What was making it hard was the behaviour of her targets.

Shark-like, the ships were circling the Garden. They had spread out to stop her shooting more than one of them at a time, and they were moving in strange twists and turns that made it hard to predict where they would be. And they were shooting back, too. Already, she had lost three of the gems on the outer ring, and some of the spikes were cracked or broken off entirely where the blasts had struck. She simply couldn’t _fire_ fast enough to keep all of them off, and – she flinched as another blast slammed into the Garden, and replied with one of four-charge beams, sacrificing a bit of time in return for a shot that buffeted the offending vessel’s shields and sent it spinning off-course – if they kept up the rate of advance they were currently making, they would make it all the way to the edge of the Garden within a few minutes, if that.

Luckily, she had a plan. She had refrained from telling Linith about it, because she was pretty sure the older woman would disapprove of trying anything improvisational with systems as old and rigid as these, but she was sure it would work.

“Are you ready, Raising Heart?” she asked during a pause for breath. The ships were still circling, wary of further shots, though they were still spiralling inexorably inwards.

[Ready and set, my master,] replied the Device, and the prompt screen flashed as the musical notation on it changed. This was Nanoha’s secret plan. When Linith had introduced her to the systems in the first place, she’d noticed how the charge sequence needed to be repeated several times to prepare any of the cannons to fire. Even the smallest ones took two. So, she had reasoned, since it was still a maths-based system, shouldn’t it be possible to work out a sequence that meant “charge up multiplied by a given number”? That would let you charge up any of the cannons in one sequence, without having to repeat yourself. It would still take roughly as long to charge, of course. But, crucially, it meant that you could be firing other weapons with the time you would otherwise be spending singing charge-up codes.

She had put some work into it during the two or three days grace they’d had since Precia had announced their intentions, and interfacing with the systems had allowed her to finish off what should, theoretically, be the right command to repeat a sequence. She was fairly sure, it had cropped up quite a few times in some of the more complicated commands, and seemed to work sort of like the Mid one. So it was worth a try, right? The sequence of chord-syllables that Raising Heart now projected onto her prompt screen was the result.

Taking a deep breath and choosing one of the five-charge beams to test her strategy, Nanoha intoned the lyrical word-notes of the command.

A brief tremor… and the charge icon began to rise, smoothly and without stopping.

“Ha haa!” Nanoha exclaimed. “Okay, Raising Heart! Help me set the small guns on a repeating pattern! We want them in two groups, so that one set is always charging while the other fires, that way we can get a continuous firing pattern set up! And we want it to trigger the charge-up sequence automatically. Think you can handle it?”

[We’ll get to it!] confirmed the Device, shimmering briefly as it whirred through complex chains of algorithms. Nanoha took a deep breath and began to sing, and soon the lances of light shooting out became a continuous barrage rather than isolated shots – less precisely aimed, but creating a much denser field of danger close to the Garden. Several got hit, shields flaring bright, and the bracketing fire meant that the spaceships simply couldn’t move fast enough to dodge her aim – which was good, because that should scare them off. And it did; quickly, the inward spiral of ships spread out again as the TSAB sought the relative safety of distance.

But not, it appeared, quickly enough.

Red light flooded the screens and Nanoha’s eyes grew wide as warbling alarms began to shriek.

They had been boarded.

…

On a rocky ledge on the edge of the Garden of Time, a small group gathered. Here on the exterior of the Garden’s shell, they could see the swirling violet curtain of the dimensional sea at the edge of the real-space bubble they floated in. The eddying currents were broken by blinding flashes and crashing cascades of sound as artillery spells thicker than tree-trunks flew back and forth between the huge floating structure and the tiny ships that circled it at a wary distance like predatory wolves around a mammoth. So far, the far superior bulk and firepower of the Garden was winning, easily keeping the ships at bay and shrugging off the attacks that skittered off its bunker-like shields.

Zest didn’t like it. Barely had they edged within teleport range when the suppressive fire from the Garden had redoubled. They had just about had time to send in part of the first wave before being driven back out of range. That meant that the boarding force on the Garden was undermanned, incomplete and without any backup. While not the worst-case scenario they had planned for, it still wasn’t good – the man was more than a little worried it might have been a deliberate trap. He glanced back at the streaks of blinding light lancing out in all directions and frowned. It looked like a cycling pattern, but the sheer volume and density of fire meant that getting past it would be difficult.

He glanced around, doing a quick headcount of the group with him. Quint and the cat-familiar, Lotte. The Scyra boy and Enforcer Harlaown, both looking tense. One four-man squad of A-rankers, and two more from another, all with standard shooting Devices. Not exactly a force he would have asked to assault a target this large and formidable with.

But complaining wouldn’t help. “Sensors,” he ordered. “How many people got through, and what do we have to deal with?”

“Atmospheric Pressure and Composition are 1a normal,” reported one of the squad mages promptly, a window already in hand. “No chemical contaminants, slightly elevated levels of carbon dioxide... maybe a sign that the atmospheric systems aren't working perfectly,” he observed, grabbing and moving the window around. “And... Kaisers, look at the power flows through some of these walls.”

“Don't overpenetrate,” Chrono ordered, keeping his staff ready. “Everyone, make sure your Devices are Smart about shot compensation.”

Yuuno looked grateful at that, despite the muttered “Like that's going to last with all these high rank mages on board,” from one of the female troopers.

“Thirty-eight mages managed to board, captain,” continued the first speaker. “Looks like we’re split into three groups, more or less. The other two are quite a way off, and there’s no way we can get there across the outside.” He looked up, waiting for orders. Zest nodded curtly.

“We go in,” he decided. “Fall in behind me and stay together. We don’t know what we’ll find in here, so stay on your toes. Quint, you take the rearguard. Lotte, you’re up front with me. Harlaown, Scrya, middle of the column.” He recalled the enthusiasm the young archaeologist had shown about the place and grimaced slightly. “Scrya, try to contain your interest in the place and keep a shield on hand. I’m expecting an ambush, and you’re an expert with defensive magic. And while I doubt it’s likely to come up, if anything you know about this place looks like it could provide an edge, let us know.” He noted the quiet, wide-eyed nod and hoped the boy wouldn’t break down under stress. Fighting Jewel Seeds was one thing, but assaulting a fortified, trap-laden base was quite another.

Nods came from all around, and Lotte bounded forwards as Quint rolled back to bring up the back of the column. She was still in her human form, trading claws and teeth backed by a quarter-tonne of muscle for deceptively strong svelte limbs and a slight, agile frame. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her, and received a shrug in reply.

“I don't like fighting in war form,” she explained. “It's too hard not killing people; you can't use a lot of the strength, or the claws and the biting. The size isn’t even useful in tight corridors; I can’t turn around as fast when I’m that big. Two legs are useful for that.” She grinned, sharp teeth flashing in a quick, vicious smile. “And anyway, hands are useful, too. I have eskrima sticks, see?” She swung the long, thin sticks she carried. “Been waiting for a chance to use these.”

Zest nodded absently, eyes flicking around the darkened interior of the tunnel as they ventured deeper. The actinic lightshow from the battle outside faded away as the glassy stone walls closed up behind them. The light inside was pale and washed out, emanating from violet-glowing crystals that lined the walls. Like the passageway itself, they were rough and uncut, and the light was eerie. It wasn’t much to see by, and painted the odd angles and organic curves of the walls and ceilings in a seeming monochrome.

Occasionally it flickered blindingly bright for a second, like lightning flashes in the gloom as enormous amounts of mana flowed through conduits nearby. Skin looked deathly pale under it, rendering the group a band of walking corpses, and it had a way of smoothing out protuberances and fissures. More than one person caught themselves on unnoticed spurs of glassy stone that jutted out of the walls as they made their way deeper within the Garden, or tripped over unseen fissures in the uneven floor.

The silence was like a physical force, this deep inside the cloying halls of stone. The stone-metal surfaces seemed to eat noise, soaking it up and stifling it. Breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the chilling hush, and the steady tread of their boots seemed to be all but screaming their presence compared to the utter quiet. The distant booms and cracks of artillery fire broke the hush periodically. Sometimes the ground shook too, as particularly strong recoils rocked the Garden on its axis. Time seemed to stretch in the cramped conditions, drawing seconds out to minutes or hours. Zest didn’t even need to turn around to know that the group was getting more and more paranoid. There was no way they had avoided detection, and yet they had been utterly unchallenged so far.

After a tense, nerve-wracking five minutes that seemed like a small eternity, they had got nowhere. The tunnels seemed to obey no pattern, nor any comprehensible design. There were no straight lines or clean angles, and segueing from the tunnels to crafted corridors didn’t improve anything. Strange carvings were etched into the walls that seemed to be four or five different pictures on top of each other. Old machines sat gathering dust, with jagged parts jutting out from curving, glyph-covered surfaces. Some of them were tied into the active weapon systems, with more than a few sparking erratically from broken cables or arcing current from exposed wiring. At least two were on fire, filling their chambers with acrid, bitter smoke. Nowhere were there any signs of the inhabitants of the floating fortress.

“Oh, I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all,” muttered Yuuno, staring at the burning machinery. “If things are burning out like this… whatever automatic maintenance may or may not have been happening isn’t enough to cope with this sort of power flow. Try not to think about what will happen if a critical system gives out. With the Jewel Seeds plugged in… it…” he swallowed, “… well, it would probably be painless and fast,” he managed. “Oh, I have a _bad_ feeling about this…”

Zest privately agreed with him. But it was the lack of opposition that concerned him the most. “Quint,” he rumbled quietly, glancing back at his teammate. A glowing duct that crossed the ceiling flashed blindingly pink for a moment, etching shadows across his face as a hum that made the bones shiver echoed through the corridors.

“I know,” she replied tersely. “Me too. Where are they? They can’t be gone already; I can still feel the ritual.”

“I don’t know. Stay alert. Whatever’s going to happen, it’ll happen soon.”

After another paranoid minute of traversing the maze, Zest called the group to a halt at a junction. It was a small antechamber, with five passages leading off it and one wall entirely covered by an abstract mural of some kind. More importantly, it gave clear lines of sight and avenues of retreat down all of the corridors, and enough space to manoeuvre. He nodded to Quint and Lotte.

“Set up a perimeter, make sure we don’t get any unpleasant surprises while we’re here.” As they moved away, he turned to the squadron leader who had run the scan on the ledges outside.

“Try and get into contact with the other teams,” he ordered. “We may not be able to communicate through the jammers, but it’s worth trying.” The man nodded and called up a screen, his fingers tapping away as he tried to open lines of communication to the other two boarding parties.

Zest left him to it, and turned his attention to Yuuno. The boy’s head had been on a constant swivel for most of the trip so far, trying to take in everything he could with eyes like saucers. Chrono had been forced to catch him at least three times as he’d tripped or stumbled. Now he was looking around the chamber and examining the mural that covered one of the walls.

“Scrya,” he prompted. “Can you work out how to get out of this maze and towards the central chambers? We’re going in circles here, and getting nowhere.”

Yuuno looked up with a trace of irritation. “I’ve studied the era,” he protested, “that doesn’t give me any knowledge about the floor-plan of a place I’ve never been before. But… hmm. I’d guess we’re in the underbelly of the station, from where we entered. We need to go up. And I did say about dynamic interiors. What concerns me more is this.” He motioned at the mural, and Zest raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“I’m not talking about archaeology!” Yuuno growled, correctly guessing the cause of the man’s doubt. “You told me to tell you if anything I knew seemed important! Look at the symbols here!”

Conceding the point and silently moving his estimation of the boy up a notch, Zest leaned closer to examine the mural. Yuuno explained in quiet, hushed tones. “I think these are displays for the systems in the Garden, representations of the magical infrastructure threaded through this place. All the carvings we’ve been seeing, they’re primitive display screens – they’re probably trying to communicate what they’re showing with something like telepathy, that’s why they seem to shift oddly. But that also means they’re active, and updating to show the present state of the systems they’re hooked into.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Zest acknowledged the point readily enough, and now that he was looking for it there was indeed a slight magical field around the mural. But it didn’t seem terribly important. Even if the displays were showing valuable information, it was unlikely that they could decipher enough of it to be useful, and Yuuno didn’t seem to be saying he’d figured out where Testarossa was conducting her ritual from them.

“Look _here_ ,” Yuuno insisted impatiently, pointing to a corner of the mural. Zest followed his finger to the cluster of circles and symbols that were etched there, which looked oddly familiar…

“… that’s a Midchildan circle,” he murmured in surprise. “Or at least something similar to one.”

“It’s Nanoha,” declared Yuuno with certainty. “I know her magic, it’s her. She’s not just firing the weapons; she’s hooked right into the core systems. Maybe she has to be to fire them… anyway, the point is, I can’t find Precia. But I think I can find _Nanoha_ , if you give me a few minutes. Certainly if there are any more of these displays along the way.”

Zest paused for a brief second to consider before nodding sharply. “Do it,” he ordered. “We find her, and she can lead us to Testarossa. Either willingly, or…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish, as he was interrupted by a yell from the squad leader. “Captain!” he shouted, panicked. “The other teams! They’re gone!”

Zest’s head whipped round. “You mean you can’t contact them?” he asked, though he was already fairly sure it was worse.

“No, I can get communications through. I mean they’re _gone_ , they’re not responding! I’d just opened channels to both of them when they shut off, one after another! Now I can’t get anything from them, it’s like they’re not even there!”

“Ambush,” Zest growled, his hands flying to his spear. Lotte hissed, her hands glowing as a shield-dome erupted out from her and surrounded the entire group. A Belkan circle spun out around Quint’s feet as she brought her own magic to combat readiness.

But neither shield nor spear could block what came next.

Without the faintest sound or a flicker of forewarning, the dim light that they had become accustomed to in the murky tunnels winked out and left them in pitch-black, inky darkness. And hot on the heels of the sudden, total blackness came an anti-magilink field that struck like a hammer, so strong that Lotte’s shield guttered out like a candle as the squadron mages reeled or fell to their knees.

And in the gloom and shadow, with a near-silent hiss of movement, something struck.

…

Soundless and sure, they attacked in the brief moment of disorientation before anyone could adapt to the sudden darkness. Zest’s only warning was the faintest breath of pressure, a sensation of air movement that signified a sudden space opening up behind him.

 _‘The mural!’_ he snapped out at Quint, whirling round and bringing his spear up into a guard position, calling on his magic for light. He couldn’t see a thing, the night vision functions of his Barrier Jacket sacrificed as it went into anti-AMF mode. That was probably half the reason the field had been put up in the first place. He could respect the thought that had gone into the ambush, even as he cursed himself for falling into it.

The light spell took less than a second to form, but it was still too slow. He got a brief glimpse of a huge, bulky shape moving towards him in the orange glow before a bone-jarring impact slammed into his spear block. He batted it aside on reflex, striking out at the unseen enemy, and was rewarded by the shriek of tearing metal. Drawing on instinct to make up for his lack of visibility, he spun into a spear form, probing the blackness with scything blows and landing several more hits. Somewhere off to his left, he heard the staccato crash of Quint unleashing a rapid series of blows to her own opponent.

Light bloomed. Probably Lotte’s, from the colour. In the glimpses around his whirling spear-form, Zest made out a yawning tunnel where the mural had been. Combat drones were spilling out of it, sleek things of brassy metal and black joints, with lethal blades in hand. The one that had attacked him was larger than those now advancing, almost twice the size. The vanguard, then, likely meant to take him and Quint out and leave the weaker mages unprotected. Given that his instinctive strike had left it with a huge rent in its side, not to mention missing an arm, that didn’t seem to have worked so well.

The smaller automata, however, were still a problem. And while he had damaged one of the larger ones, it wasn’t yet down. Moving forward to bar the passage, Zest’s spear blurred into a storm of stabbing, slicing blows. Metal parted like paper under the onslaught, and the burnt-orange boosts of magic that he added to his blows sent fragments of his targets ricocheting off the walls and floor. There were many of the things, though, and while their numbers were nowhere near sufficient to overwhelm him, he was unable to stop a few of them from slipping past.

Magic flared again and again, a strobing rainbow of magical conflict with painted the close confines of the Garden in eye-aching brightness.

“Retreat down the other corridors!” he commanded. “Fall back to a position you can defend!”

Splintering noises behind him announced Quint taking care of the drones that had made their way past the flashing kill-zone of his spear in more or less one piece, and a moment later she vaulted over him and landed rollerblades-first on the face of the last large combat drone. The impact caved its head in, and a flurry of glowing punches left all of the smaller ones within reach embedded in the walls of the newly revealed passage. Drawing back, the automata formed up into organised ranks just beyond her reach. As one, they drew their off arms in front of them, as if they were each equipped with an invisible buckler.

The reason became apparent a moment later, as sections of their forearm armour parted with a hiss, and glowing magical shields formed in front of them. Lined up shoulder to shoulder, they made a solid barrier of protective magic interspersed with blades.

Quint rolled back alongside Zest, and he felt Lotte touch down beside him. The cat-familiar’s hands were glowing. “We need to hold them here,” she said crisply. There was no sign of the playfulness she had exhibited when she had first arrived on the Asura. “The rest of the group is doing well, but they need time to fall back far enough that these guys won’t catch them running. If I bind the first wave when they charge, can you two break enough of them to clog the passage for the ones behind them?”

Zest nodded shortly. “Good plan. See if you can start laying trap spells once you’ve done that, and we can fall back. If you can collapse the passage, all the better.”

“Right,” she acknowledged. “Here they come.” The wall of shields and swords was advancing, slowly at first but picking up speed as they began to charge.

Something teased at the corner of Zest’s eye. The oncoming charge, the glyph-lined walls of the hidden corridor, the fragments of metal and broken stone from the first brief engagement…

… the faintest flicker of light and movement, behind him.

“Dodge!” he roared, but it was too late. Even as he threw himself sideways, he knew it was too late. His leap turned him in mid-air, just enough to see it. Four training shots, scything towards them. They must have been purposefully weak and dim as they moved into position. Now, glowing gold lines solidified between them as they blazed suddenly to life, a second spell activating underneath the first.

A barrier.

It had been that sudden glow that had caught his attention. But by the time Zest could see it, it had already crossed almost the entire distance between them, gathering momentum the whole way. It was a minor miracle he had noticed it at all. He surged energy in two directions, forming two barriers of his own. One to blunt the force of the onrushing one, and the other to deflect the swords that it was pushing him towards. He saw Quint and Lotte doing the same – not fast enough, then. Damn.

Barrier met barrier with a great crash of force, and they were flung towards the mass of charging automata.

…

In the darkness of the tunnels, burgundy eyes watched from behind a sleek visor. Unlike the boarding party, Fate could see every second of the action, unhindered by the darkness. The visor –separate from her Barrier Jacket and running off a conventional power supply – painted the mages in glowing infrared, and highlighted the lines and contours of the passage in geometric grids.

Her gaze followed the elite team as they were flung into the hidden tunnel. She wasn’t especially worried that the automata would kill them. Indeed, she didn’t even hold out much hope that they would _stop_ them. What it would do, though, was a very good job of getting them out of the way.

“Seal the passage,” she ordered Bardiche. The mural slid down, blocking off the burgeoning melee and plunging the antechamber into darkness once more. “Vent it.”

A sharp hiss marked the air being evacuated from the tunnel on the other side of the portal. Distantly, the faint sound of shrieking metal rang out. Glancing at her display, Fate frowned. It looked like the man had cut through the ceiling, which probably meant he had escaped the venting systems. Still, he was less of a threat now, and the momentum trackers in his Barrier Jacket would have been one of the more delicate systems that the AMF would have interfered with.

There was no harm in making sure he couldn’t get back, though.

“Reconfigure internal structure,” she ordered, and turned her back on the grinding sound of moving architecture.

 _‘Linith?’_ she sent, _‘I’ve started on this group. The ambush worked, I’ve separated the leaders from the rest of the group. The two we spoke about and a new one – she looked like a cat-familiar.’_

There was a brief pause before the reply came back. _‘Ah yes, I see them. Very well done, dear. You shifted the internal layout? That seems to have stymied them. I’ll take care of them from here; you finish up with the rest of their group. Arf and I have dealt with our groups; she’s on her way to you now. Good luck, sweetheart.’_

Fate nodded, allowing herself a soft smile. _‘Thank you, Linith,’_ she replied warmly. Then her face settled back into the blank, determined mask as she turned to the retreating mages.

The main threats were out of the way. Now to mop up what was left.

…

They hadn’t gone far. In fact, they hadn’t even got out of the antechamber. The AMF was still active, though decaying rapidly, and a dozen more automata had moved in from where they had been lurking in the passages leading off it. The Enforcer boy was trying to get them grouped together and retreat back the way they had come, but half the golems had cut him and the ferret-boy off from the others. The metallic figures were hacking and slashing at a glowing green barrier while the squadron of A-rankers found to hold off the others.

Lurking in the shadows of the fifth tunnel, Fate observed the situation with narrowed eyes. Most of the light was coming from what looked like a miniature green sun hovering near the ceiling. It illuminated the chamber as if it were day – probably a spell that the young archaeologist used to light his way on digs.

It was lovely when her opponents gave her easy targets like that, and something that didn’t happen nearly often enough, in Fate’s opinion.

She let fly with an Arc Saber, igniting Bardiche’s scythe-blade and hurling it forwards in a single fluid motion. It tore the light spell in half, plunging the chamber back into darkness, and a Blitz Action took her halfway to the squadron mages before they even realised what had happened. One of them saw the glowing blade of Bardiche coming, and erected a shield in her path. Had it been a second Arc Saber, it might have worked.

But Fate was not a dumb shooting spell. With an idle twitch of the movement spell, she was under the shield and among them. Two of the mages dropped almost instantly, caught off-guard by surprise and felled with vicious slashes to the back and chest as she passed them. The rest scattered, moving with the coordination of telepathy as they tried to avoid the automata in the shadows.

Fate didn’t even slow down. She continued on her path after strafing the group, rebounding off a wall to gain altitude and flowing around a volley of blue blades from one of the tunnel entrances. It seemed that Harlaown and Scrya were still stuck over there – a quick glance revealed why. Dark figures seethed behind barriers blocking off two of the tunnels, and it was only by dint of their blockading action that the combat drones weren’t already flooding the chamber. They were trying to clear a path of retreat, but she could already see that it was going to take longer than the rest of their group had left. Chrono seemed to know it too, and was splitting his attention between helping break the automata into scrap and firing volleys at her.

The bass tones of a huge explosion ripped through the Garden, subsonic vibrations reverberating through its structure. The entire Garden lurched sickeningly, and the mural came alight with distress patterns that shifted and moved like writhing snakes. The sudden, unexpected brightness washed over Fate as she approached her next target. It caught her in mid-air as she swung towards the unfortunate woman, who was off-balance from the sudden tremor.

Before she could react, Fate jabbed Bardiche forward into her throat and kicked off her chest, sending the mage into the wall as Fate flipped backwards to avoid another Stinger shot. Deciding to take the two boys out of the fight before they became too much of an impediment, she threw an Arc Saber at them, purposefully aimed high. As expected, Chrono was conserving energy, and didn’t even try to block the off-target projectile. It was a mistake.

[Saber Explode,] announced Bardiche, and the golden crescent detonated explosively. To his credit, the young Enforcer dodged all but the absolute periphery of the blast, rolling backwards with uncanny reflexes and easily deflecting the force that reached him into the automata on either side of him. While disappointing, it did have the side effect of putting him in easy reach of the gleaming swords, and he was forced to spin and block, cutting through metal blades and brassy plating with close-range melee spells.

Yuuno rushed forward to help him, and Fate took the opportunity as she saw it. A mental command to Bardiche, and a wall closed over the passage behind them. It probably wouldn’t stop them for long, but it would be enough for her to deal with the three remaining mages in the antechamber.

They had wound up clustered next to the mural, one holding off the automata with barriers as the other two tried their best to fill the air with shooting spells. It was clear that they couldn’t quite see her in the gloom, and were only managing to track her at all by the glowing streaks that her scythe-blade left in their vision as she darted around the murky shadows of the ceiling.

“Bardiche. Glaive form.” The glowing scythe flickered out and Bardiche’s black axehead flipped up to point straight out. Spinning the polearm quickly as she flew a zigzagging path from wall to wall, Fate scattered the shots that came close to her while preparing to finish the fight quickly. While she didn’t relish the possibility of hurting them, she couldn’t afford to waste time here.

[Photon Charger,] barked Bardiche, gathering the mana for the attack. Fate bounced off the wall one last time, a wraith-like silhouette in the darkness of a chamber lit only by the flash and flare of shooting spells. She soared through the air until she was almost directly above the small group.

Then the magic took her, and she accelerated downwards like a comet, thrusting Bardiche forwards like a lance. Her speed was such that she crossed the distance in less than an eyeblink, smashing the tip of her glaive-Device down in the centre of their formation with bone-jarring force that rattled up through her hands and made her wrists and elbows ache.

The force on the other end of the Device was even greater, though. Golden light flared as the gathered mana exploded out in a ring from the point of impact. The squad mages were flung away like rag dolls, two of them skidding across the floor while the third hit a drone and fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Fate twirled Bardiche as she stood up from the crouch she had landed in, glancing around to check for any signs of movement or severe injury. A quick assessment marked them as unconscious but not dead or in life threatening danger, and she nodded. That would have to do for now.

“Stay here,” she ordered the automata. “Guard them, and restrain them if any wake up. If any others come, subdue them. Non-lethally, if possible.” Mother would want her to be harsher, to harden her heart against those who would hurt her sister, but she couldn’t help but add that last command.

The mural flared briefly with light as the Garden’s weapons fired again, and Fate shook herself free from musing. Harlaown and Scrya were still both loose in the Garden, and probably moving towards Nanoha.

_‘Fate-chan! How are you doing?’_

And now she had Arf by her side. _‘Just fine, Arf,’_ she greeted the wolf as she bounded up. There were more automata with her, lined up in organised ranks. It was _nice_ fighting on the side with superior numbers, she decided.

 _‘We still need to deal with the Scrya and Harlaown boys, though,’_ she added. _‘Come on. Let’s go.’_

The wall that had blocked the passage slid up, revealing an empty corridor. Girl and wolf slipped silently into the shadows, two dark forms in the darkness. Within seconds, they were lost to sight.

And like loyal soldiers, worse-hidden but far more numerous, the ranks of automata followed.

…

_‘Why are you doing this?’_ demanded Testarossa’s voice. Chrono didn’t reply, refusing to be drawn into a verbal debate that would only distract him. She could be anywhere in the tunnels, and she wasn’t hindered by the darkness like he and Scrya were. Every time it seemed he could reset his Jacket’s low-light vision, another AMF would hit and scramble it against as his defences automatically went into Hardened mode.

He was beginning to suspect that it was something the systems in the Garden itself was doing, maybe even part of some containment system for the power flows. That would explain why Testarossa seemed to be unaffected, she had clearly come prepared. He certainly wasn’t fooled by her apparent desire to talk to him. If they let their guard down, she would attack. He knew that from experience.

 _‘We haven’t done anything to you!’_ she insisted. _‘And it’s not going to hurt anyone else, either! All we want is to save my sister! Why are you trying to kill her?’_

Beside him, Scrya’s expression flickered for a second. Chrono shot him a glare. “She’s biased. And wrong,” he muttered. “You know it’s not like that. Anyway, she’s just trying to distract us. Ignore her. And keep your guard up.”

It was infuriating. Chrono was _sure_ he could stop the girl, despite her speed. She was good, but he was better, and it was showing with every ambush she made. Her familiar was a powerful asset, but Scrya was the superior defensive mage, and his assistance should have been more than enough to cancel out the wolf’s aid.

There were just two problems he was encountering. Firstly, Fate and Arf worked together far better than Chrono and Scrya. They were all but two parts of a whole, moving fluidly to support and cover one another with no need for prompting or communication. And secondly, her tactics. The darkness, the ambushes, the anti-magilink fields and most of all; the Kaiser-damned automata.

They were seemingly without number, homing in on the pair from a myriad of hiding places and patrols in the corridors. The light was making them a target, too, advertising their position to anything with eyes. But what other choice did they have? They couldn’t fight blind. Yuuno’s sun-ball hovered above them as they ran, lighting their way.

 _‘We can’t keep this up forever!’_ he called to Chrono as they ran. The clacking sound of automata echoed behind them, and they sped up slightly. _‘We need a plan! Where do we head for?’_

Chrono thought fast, flicking through possibilities. Another rumble sounded, and the floor shivered ominously beneath his feet. Whether it was the Garden firing or being hit, he didn’t know, but it was an unpleasant reminder that they were working under time constaints. Kaisers, he hoped reinforcements would get here soon. _‘Let me think…’_ he muttered. _‘Did you get enough from that mural to work out where Takamachi is?’_

Yuuno didn’t bother to answer verbally; he just nodded and called up a screen beside him. _‘I didn’t pinpoint her, but I can give you a general direction. We want to go up and right from where we’re headed now. And find another display to… whoa!’_

A combat drone had appeared in their path from one of the side-branches of an intersection. From the scorch marks on its carapace, it was one they had encountered before. Its blade lashed out at Yuuno’s throat and hit air as the young changeling seemed to vanish from its path. The lack of any resistance to the powerful swing left it off-balance for a second as the force of the blow swung it round. It didn’t get a chance to recover. Green light blazed from floor-level and two barriers slammed together, catching the robot between them. Brassy armour screeched as it crumpled, and something inside the torso gave out with a stuttering crack that wasn’t so much heard as felt.

Chrono winced as the broken shell collapsed, but didn’t turn to look. He was already moving, taking a few extra heartbeats of concentration to add a surprise to the shield he was setting up. Sure enough, gold and orange shots rocketed out of the dark to their right. As they hammered against the shield, though, it didn’t falter or fade. Bright ripples of light ran through it where the spells struck, vivid white against the royal blue.

And as his opponent shot out of the darkness, her polearm slicing through the air with a shrill whistle and the scent of ozone, the reactive shield… reacted. It had no way to aim, but made up for it by simply blanketing the entire area in front of it with a plume of blue fire. Chrono wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have heard a sharp gasp as the girl was forced to break off her attack and dodge backwards and up to avoid the blast.

Which left her exposed. Blocks of green light appeared, encasing her hands and feet in what looked like glowing bricks anchored in the air. She struggled, but the bonds not only held firm but expanded, growing most of the way down to her elbows and halfway up her shins as they absorbed the force and strengthened in response. But Chrono didn’t have time for that, because he was already turning to combat the shapes that loomed off to his left, from the direction they had been heading.

Three automata. A barrier took one of them edge-on, the thin green edge hammering into the body like a chisel and rupturing a long groove along it. Chrono snapped off a trio of Stinger Snipes towards both of the others, lacing the third in each line with an explosive. Two strikes, he’d found, was generally enough to weaken their armour so that the third could break through and destroy the internals.

But it was never that easy. They fell, but not before one of them threw something at him, something small and compact. Yuuno raised a shield in front of them both, but the projectile was already growing, changing form, shifting its shape into…

The ballistic wolf-familiar bounded off air, snarling as she leapt onto the shield and bit down. It didn’t break, but fractures spread through it, and the pair backed off. Yuuno sent glowing chains out, hoping to slow the beast down. She replied in kind, howling as she broke through the shield and charged forward, peppering him with shots and chains. Chrono went vertical to avoid her snapping jaws as Yuuno began to box her in with barriers, and turned to where the girl was secured.

To where she _had been_ secured.

A whisper of air behind him provided enough warning to dodge as the scythe-blade hissed through where his head had been, and Chrono resisted the urge to swear. He blocked another swing with the shaft of his Device and forced her back with a flurry of spinning blades that splashed against the walls.

“I _won’t_ let you hurt my little sister,” she hissed at him, fiercely. Metal clashed against mana below them, and Yuuno sent a wordless cry of telepathic distress. More combat drones. Wonderful.

Chrono grit his teeth, tightened his grip on S2U, and began manoeuvring to help his ally. And hopefully, this time, to do some damage to the girl or her familiar without them simply fading back into the tunnels the instant the fight turned against them.

It was going to be a long battle.

…

Above the deluge of targeting and firing, a part of Nanoha’s mind floated, disconnected. Around her, alarms wailed and charging bars hummed. The Garden trembled and shuddered as it fired blast after blast at the wolf-pack that assailed it. Her throat was sore and aching from the constant stream of songs and chants, but she refused to stop and forced herself to stay on-key. She wouldn’t give up, not until Precia was finished with her ritual.

But even as most of her attention was absorbed in firing, aiming and setting up more and more automatic charging cycles, a tiny part of her focus was elsewhere.

Connected to the Garden’s systems, she could _feel_ the amount of power that the great mage was working with, drawing it out of the white-hot raging star that was the Jewel Seed in her mind’s eye. Fate had told her of the power of the artefacts, but to hear it described was nothing compared to feeling it for herself. The power of the Jewel Seeds dwarfed anything that Nanoha was working with, and yet Precia was moulding it.

Piggybacking off Nanoha’s link to the Garden, she was using the younger girl’s ties to the station’s ancient systems to shape oceans of surging, boiling mana into stable bindings. Link by blazing link, the life support mechanism was falling into line with Alicia’s body and Linker Core, struggling to break free of Precia’s ironclad control with a force that made Nanoha pale.

And yet it was failing. Precia was winning, and though Nanoha could dimly sense what it was costing the older woman to impose her will on such strength, she couldn’t help but be awed by the skill and control that she was showing in doing so. She felt tiny in comparison to the two – the power of the Jewel Seeds, and the talent of the mage who was using them. Someday, she could only dream of gaining such heights. No… no, not dream she decided. She would _aim_ to reach them, for now that she knew what was possible, she couldn’t accept anything less from herself.

One day, she would be able to do what Precia Testarossa was doing. What she had done.

Resolve redoubled, she threw herself back into the thunder of the guns. The automatic cycles were working for her now, and the shots from the Garden were becoming ever more powerful and accurate. They were speeding up, too, as she brought more and more of the guns into charging cycles, setting them to gather power and fire as often as they could. She knew she was overloading the systems, stressing them past the point of safety, but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter if they were broken by this battle, so long as they held out for long enough.

 _‘Vesta?’_ she asked in a pause for breath, massaging her throat with a wince. She was going to be almost unable to speak by tomorrow morning, she could tell. But then, that didn’t matter either, really. _‘How are you doing?’_ Her familiar waited outside her door, a platoon of automata at her side, ready to combat anyone who made it up to this most vital of command points, within which Nanoha was defenceless. While Fate and Arf hunted and eliminated the teams in the depths of the Garden, Vesta was Nanoha’s last line of defence should any get past her friends, a feral barrier guarding her mistress against harm.

_‘Owww…’_

_‘Vesta? Are you hurt?’_ Nanoha felt a cold flush run through her momentarily. Had the boarding teams reached her already? Had she missed the sound of combat outside her chamber, lost as she was in the wash of notes and glyph-chords?

 _‘Uh… not badly, Mistress. I was reeeaaally bored, so I tried chasing my tail. Only I was in my war form, and I caught it.’_ There was a brief pause, and her next words carried a hint of sheepishness. _‘And it was twitching and furry and trying to get away, so I bit it. And now my tail hurts.’_ The pout in her mental voice was audible.

Nanoha rolled her eyes, checking over the screens. Were there any other guns she could program into automated firing patterns? It looked like she had finished setting up all of the smaller ones. The TSAB had already taken several of those out, though, and they were beginning to creep closer again. She needed something new, something that could force them back again.

 _‘You need a pounce!’_ declared Vesta suddenly.

 _‘Huh? What… how did you…’_ Nanoha stuttered, stopping entirely for a second. The Garden shuddered as a corkscrew beam from one of the larger ships smashed into the base of one of the spikes, and several of her screens winked out as it came tumbling off, turning end over end as it drifted off towards the edge of the realspace bubble. She yelped, and hurried to reroute power flows and compensate for the loss.

 _‘Yeah!’_ Vesta continued, ignoring the impact. _‘You were broadcasting about the ships. You need a pounce! Not a proper pounce, where you catch them and have playtime, but the big scary impressive kind that makes them all scared and run away. The kind you chase other cats off with, where you fluff yourself out and look all huge and fighty and raargh.’_ There was a clunk from outside the door, presumably the result of Vesta demonstrating.

_‘A big scary pounce… something to scare them off! Like a fireworks display! A warning shot, you’re right! It doesn’t have to hit them, it just has to make them scared enough to back off! Brilliant, Vesta!’_

Despite being on the other side of a sealed door, Vesta managed to convey a sense of preening. Nanoha smiled fondly, already looking through her options. Since she wasn’t going to hit anything, she could afford to use some of the _really_ big weapons, the ones that Fate had warned her away from using. Something intimidating enough to make all of the TSAB ships go away…

There was only one that fit the bill perfectly. The largest one that she could access. Two of the emitters were cracked slightly, but the other four were fine. And the charge-bar…

 _‘_ Twenty-one _charges.’_ Nanoha whistled softly. The largest gun she’d felt safe using up until now was five. She would have to aim it carefully. She examined the interface, frowning as she read over the initialisation chords. This one didn’t work like the lower-level ones; it was a lot more finely tuned. It looked like the interface with the automatic firing systems was missing, too. Did that mean she would have to fire it manually?

The chant-sequence was strange, and grated further on her already stinging vocal chords, but the charge slowly began to build. Nanoha examined the ring of ships, looking for an opening. She would need to make sure it wouldn’t get close enough to anyone to hurt them, but that it _did_ get close enough to make them back off. Like a bigger version of the Starlight Breaker she had used to escape the TSAB woman – Quint – who had dislocated her arm. She took a deep breath, choosing a gap in the circling shapes that looked big enough that even if she was off by a bit, she wouldn’t be risking much.

Locking her eyes onto it and pulling a deep breath through her aching throat, she sang the activation sequence.

…

Light bloomed on the front of the Garden. It unfurled from the central gem, the very largest one, spreading out in streaked lines and waves from the cold, curved surface. In phosphorescent violet, glyphs and symbols formed. They were jagged, angular things, connected by zigzagging lines that formed no discernible shape, an uneven ring around the glowing jewel. The light built and built as more and more of the script wrote itself in the air, until an array as wide across as the Asura was long hung in the air. Surges and pulses of brightness moved from glyph to glyph, flaring the symbols in rapid patterns that criss-crossed the array like arcing current.

And then, as all eyes turned to the new display, a shape unfolded from the centre of the gem, formed from mana and sculpted magic. It was angular, artificial; a thing of planes and spikes and geometric structure that looked like yet another outgrowth of the structure that generated it. One could almost mistake it for the beak of some huge cephalopodan monster bursting out of its rocky home, surrounded by tusks or horns. Whatever they were, the spines that ringed its central surface shifted, emitting thin beams of light that tracked over the circling ships. Watching. Analysing. Considering.

“Is that… a summons?” breathed Lindy from her position on the Asura, her face ghost-white.

And then, in concert, they shifted again and moved inwards, giving off a horrible sense of _focus_. The many beams of lights narrowed down, converging on the Asura and following it as it tried to evade. The gem began to ring, like the sound of some cosmic finger on the wine glass of god. The sound built and built, making the stone-metal of the Garden vibrate in harmony with it and bringing screes of dust and rubble down from the ceilings.

“No no no no no!” Nanoha panicked, her eyes wide and fearful. “This isn’t… it’s not under control! I don’t… it’s aiming on its own, I can’t stop it! Help! Vesta!” The sound didn’t carry beyond the thick walls of the chamber, and she pounded frantically at a screen, her fists passing through the mana-generated image with barely any resistance. Blue-violet script scrolled across them, displacing Raising Heart’s connection with the Garden’s systems. One after another, targeting locks appeared on the screens, pinpointing the TSAB ships with lethal intent. The automated firing of the guns shifted frequency. Changed targets.

She watched helplessly as they began to target the ships directly, rather than firing in patterns to keep anything from getting too close. Beam after beam lanced out, their behaviour changing from the wild shots of a kitten batting at air to the intent, deliberate strikes of a cobra.

“No…” she broke off, coughing harshly. The air rippled in front of her, and she gasped, trying to back away from whatever was happening now. Motionless in the null-gravity, it shouldn’t have worked. And yet she found herself drifting backwards, the sphere of screens expanding as she was moved away and a faceted sphere formed in the exact centre of the chamber. Glyphs and symbols flashed over its surfaces in parallel with those flashing across the screens, and Nanoha’s eyes widened further.

“It…” she breathed, then narrowed her eyes. “Raising Heart! Give me the shutdown codes!”

It wasn’t a gun. The twenty-one-charge subsystem wasn’t anything as crude as a conventional weapon. The thing in the chamber with her – and the thing outside, for that matter – they were some sort of mana construct, like a quasi-summon that was also taking over the targeting. Probably meant to do exactly what she’d been doing with the automated firing patterns; an artificial mind incredibly hard to initialise, but which could handle everything once it was active. Nanoha blanched as she mentally compared the power she had put into Vesta’s rebirth to what she had just channelled from the Jewel Seeds into the Garden. And this thing wouldn’t be shooting to scare them, like she had been. This one would be shooting to kill. But that meant it was tied into the systems. If she could just shut it down…

The ear-ringing sound that the main gun was making shifted pitch, rising into an almost painful whine. The monstrous glowing construct began to darken from its extremities, as if the lighter shades in the mana that made it up were being sucked inwards to its core. Nanoha screamed in frustration, wincing at the pain that shot through her throat. “Raising Heart! The codes!”

[Here, my master!]

Drawing in air and singing was beginning to _really hurt_ , but she forced the pain down and began the emergency shutdown sequence that Precia had given her. It would power down the weapons, but she should be able to get them back up again before the TSAB could make much headway. And then she could deal with anything else that they threw at her, and buy more time. They didn’t need much longer, just a few more minutes. She could manage a few more minutes.

She completed the chant.

And nothing happened. The summon-core remained, the weapons kept firing. As Nanoha stared in horror, the core swivelled, and a face grew out of it. It said something that she didn’t understand, though the tones made it clear what had happened. She hadn’t managed to sing the shutdown codes right. Her voice was too sore, or it didn’t recognise her.

She didn’t really notice; too busy staring at the mask-face set into the surface of the core. Her face. The face of the one who had called it. She had done this. Her responsibility. Her fault.

She didn’t have time to try the shutdown codes again. The summon-AI was controlling the weapons. She couldn’t aim to miss, or turn them off.

She gripped Raising Heart tighter, and made her choice.

[Divine Shooter.]

Half a dozen bullets ripped into the core in a heartbeat and detonated in a series of concussive blasts.

The building tone… stuttered. The construct-form growing from the Garden’s side wavered unsteadily, and its targeting spines moved with frantic jerks as they tried to reacquire a lock. The tenacious assault of the guns faltered, robbed of direction by the damage to the summon-mind that guided them. Still, though, it clung on. Glyph-patterns flared and sparked around the core as it tried to repair itself, and the tiny shape of the Asura lit up on Nanoha’s screens as the main gun managed to lock onto its midsection once again.

There were people on that ship. Nanoha glared, gathering power.

[Divine Buster.]

The shots had damaged the summon-core. The bombardment spell simply obliterated it, shattering the faceted sphere into motes before going on to punch a smouldering hole through the side of the chamber. The results were both immediate and impressive. The guns shut off as one, the broken wall of the chamber belched forth smoke and sparks, and construct-beak shrieked as its brain was destroyed.

Opening like some titanic maw, it lost containment on the power it had gathered, and discharged. A cone of pink-fringed white fire roared out, making the beams and blasts of the lesser guns look like matchsticks in comparison. It missed the Asura entirely, going off wildly above and to the right of the starship and making its shields flare as they repelled the high-energy radiation that spilled off the plume.

Caught off-guard and unaware by the misaimed flare, one of the picket ships wasn’t as lucky. Caught at the very edge of the cone, it barely avoided being hit directly. That it avoided it at all was the only reason it avoided being annihilated. Its shields flared for a second as they tried to protect it, then broke under the assault. The ship’s armour barely lasted any longer, and a section of the outer hull all along the near half of the ship was peeled off by the incredible force of the near miss.

The world seemed to slow for Nanoha, the smoke and fire filling her chamber becoming irrelevant as she focused in on the tiny figures that spilled out of the opened sections, flailing as their Barrier Jackets went into survival mode. Two, four, six… a dozen or more that she could pick out, ant-sized stick figures torn from the protection of their home.

The other ships were already reacting, some moving in to teleport the thrashing forms onboard and evacuate the stricken ship even as the rest resumed their attack. She was dimply aware of pounding on the door, but she remained staring, horrified, until the flames licking out of the hole she had carved in the wall had spread across half the chamber and the cloying smoke was making it hard to see.

A hacking fit of coughs snapped her out of it, and she turned with watering eyes towards where she thought the door was. A brutal impact rang out, and something flew across to smack against the opposite wall, narrowly missing her. It cleared the smoke a little, and revealed Vesta’s war form standing in the hole where the door had been.

 _‘Mistress!’_ she cried, looking around the smoke-filled chamber. Nanoha began to move groggily towards her, and she bounded in to grab her mistress by the hood and pull her out. _‘What did you_ do? _’_

Coughing, crying, Nanoha threw her arms around her familiar’s neck and hugged her close, burying her face in the silky fur as she was half carried, half dragged along the corridor away from the smoke. _‘The mecha all just shut down!’_ Vesta went on, _‘And then there were loads of explosions and noises and… and your chamber is on fire! And there’s a giant hole in it! What’s going on?’_

Nanoha didn’t know how to answer. She couldn’t. She just hugged Vesta tighter, and cried out the horror, as the Garden groaned and shuddered.

…

That the ranks of automata had stopped attacking and harassing them was, technically, a good thing. Nonetheless, Zest though that he might be willing to accept the chaotic melee, even against a seemingly endless flood of opponents, if it would replace the increasingly violent shuddering and shaking of the structure he was standing in.

He didn’t know what had happened. The automata had just… shut down, all as one. The glow had died in their eyes, and they had slumped where they stood, some falling over entirely. It looked like all of them had been affected – certainly all of the ones they had found since were in the same state.

If that had been the only thing to change, he would have been quite pleased with the results, despite not knowing their cause. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. He was pretty sure that something important had been hit by the TSAB bombardment, because it felt rather like the place was beginning to fall apart. There had been a huge impact to the structure as a whole somewhere behind them, followed quickly by a series of titanic explosions from the bowels of the Garden, one after another. They were probably the result of something overloading. He didn’t like to think about what it might have been.

Since that first explosion, the damage had just been getting progressively worse. Smoke fogged the halls from the fires that burnt wherever frayed or unshielded wiring had been left too close to flammable materials. The distant thunder of the guns had fallen silent, save for the occasional tremors that ran through the Garden as it took particularly powerful hits. Zest wasn’t certain, but he thought they might be getting progressively more violent. He was starting to give serious thought to pulling out – they hadn’t had any luck in finding Testarossa, and if the Garden was coming apart on them it would be best to leave before it broke up entirely. He wasn’t anywhere near the stage of giving the order yet, but it was beginning to look like it might become necessary.

Unfortunately, getting out might not be quite so simple. They were lost. In fact, he was relatively sure that they had been being led in circles by whoever was controlling the internal layout. One of the few boons about the current situation was that the mounting damage seemed to have disabled those systems. At least Lotte’s feline senses were proving their worth in helping navigate the confusing maze of passages and corridors. Even as he thought it, the slender form of the cat-familiar appeared up ahead of him, beckoning.

“Over here!” she shouted, “I finally found one that seems to lead upwards! And also a bunch of drones, but they’re just as dead as all the others.”

Well. That was an improvement. Zest ducked under a ruptured pipe that scalding steam was hissing out of, shifting to let Quint past him as he straightened up. With her rollerblades and the occasional use of Wing Road in the larger chambers, she was actually considerably faster than he was in these cramped, claustrophobic conditions.

_‘Captain Grangaitz? This is the Asura, are you receiving me?’_

Zest jerked at the sudden voice, instinctively gripping his Device tighter. It was telepathy, and while faint it was perfectly clear. What was odd was that he could hear it at all. The jammers must have been damaged in the blasts. Which meant…

 _‘I hear you, Asura,’_ he replied, opening the broadcast to Quint and Lotte as well. _‘Are you able to send in reinforcements?’_

 _‘Already on their way.’_ The voice had changed, and he recognised the person speaking now – Lindy, and she sounded strained. _‘We were a little delayed, one of the picket ships caught a glancing blow from a ship-killer weapon. Not enough to destroy it, but it’s effectively a write-off, and we’ve had to evacuate everyone off it. No fatalities yet, thank the Kaisers, but we’ve got a few who are touch-and-go in the medical bays, and a lot more injured. Where are you? What’s been happening? The defences went berserk for a minute and then shut down completely, did you destroy something inside?’_

Zest exchanged glances with Quint and Lotte. It hadn’t been the bombardment, then. _‘Not us. We felt it too; the damage is widespread on the inside. The place is starting to fall apart. We’re in the lower levels, I think. Someone’s been moving the layout around on us. Can I assume the jammers have gone down?’_

 _‘Not entirely, but enough to get better readings on the interior. Whatever happened, it took out more or less the entire artillery barrage as well as the jammers.’_ There was a brief pause before she continued. _‘Ah, yes. Okay, I think we have you. And we’ve narrowed down Testarossa’s location as well. We’re pulling all of the incapacitated boarding teams out, but it looks like you’re actually not that far from where you want to be. Most of it’s straight up, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem for you at this point.’_ There was a faint note of wry humour in her tone as she added, _‘I’m not sure even you could do more damage to that place than some of the stuff the scanners are picking up.’_

Zest nodded, understanding. The time for subtlety was over. With the Garden already damaged and falling apart, time was more important than the risk of damaging something important. They would dispense with the maze of passages entirely, and just carve a path straight through to their goal. Quint cracked her knuckles, and Lotte grinned toothily as he continued. _‘If you can get us the location, we should be able to take things from there,’_ he confirmed. _‘How many people are still onboard?’_

 _‘More than I’d like. Try to keep the collateral damage down as much as you can. I’m sending you the directions now.’_ His Device pulsed, acknowledging the new path and highlighting it in his augmented vision. It led straight through the ceiling.

 _‘Oh, and Zest?’_ Lindy added. _‘We’re fairly sure that Precia will soon finish whatever ritual she’s attempting.’_ Her voice turned cold. _‘See that she doesn’t, please.’_

He nodded gravely.

_‘I intend to.’_

Mana flared; a blazing orange that swirled and surged around him. Quint added her own corona of blue to the pyre, channelling power to her Revolver Knuckles.

“You open it up,” she suggested quietly. “I’ll widen it for me and Lotte in your wake. We’re going upwards anyway, so we don’t have to worry about it collapsing on us.”

Sparing just enough time for a quick nod of agreement, Zest sprang upwards and called upon one of his most favoured spells, backing it with the force and power of an S+ aerial combat mage.

[Explosion!]

Speartip met stone-metal ceiling, and the detonation blew open a two-metre-wide hole through to the level above. The debris glanced off the ceiling above that in a deadly hail of shrapnel, and Zest was a heartbeat behind it, his spear shooting forwards for a second blast. Behind him, Quint batted aside a falling lump of masonry the size of her head with a casual swat that sent it skidding down the corridor as if fired from the barrel of a gun.

Zest struck again, the strike so soon after the first that it was almost a continuation of the same thrust forwards. He didn’t need to draw the spear back; his own momentum carried it into whatever was in the way. All he needed to do was keep the spell on a rolling cycle, never quite ending, keeping mana pumping through the spell-structure so that anything the spearblade hit triggered it to fire again. It was a trick that required incredible control and finesse, enough that only a handful of mages could manage it, and was one of the abilities that had elevated him to his formidable rank in the first place.

Rising like a razor-tipped torpedo through the Garden’s levels, smashing through floors, walls and rooms with no regard for the wrecked machinery and ravaged chambers that they left in ruins and carnage behind them, the elite team began to carve their way towards the ritual that was reaching its climax.

…

Heidi crouched next to one of the unconscious bodies, inspecting what looked like a broken collarbone.

“I have never been so glad that I’m not A-rank yet in my life,” she remarked, brushing a finger across the charred material of the man’s Barrier Jacket where the blow had landed. “These look nasty.”

A few metres away, Rizu looked up from the broken ribs she was healing to glare. “It’s not something to make light of! These people are hurt! And I’m trying to carry out triage here, and… and don’t poke people!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Heidi backed down, holding her hands up in placation. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just… maybe being B rank isn’t so bad for now.”

Rizu huffed, and settled back over her patient. The turquoise glow of her magic bathed the man’s ribs in a soft back-and-forth wash, like ocean waves lapping against a shore, as she tended to his wounds.

“Personally, I’m just happy these things are all inactive,” said Mei, kicking lightly at one of the inactive automata. It rocked back slightly, and fell over with a crash that echoed down the corridor. Mei laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her head and sheepishly avoiding the trio of glares she was subjected to. “Ah… sorry. Heh. You know, this kind of creepy tunnel place with a load of dead bodies in it – well, dead robots, but it’s the same sort of thing – you’d expect them to, like, get up and start attacking when someone poked one.” She paused, and looked warily at the fallen drone, backing away slightly. It lay there, inert and placid, and showing no signs of activity or malice.

Heidi, on the other hand, showed quite a bit of malice as she stalked over to her facetious teammate. “Will you shut _up?_ ” she hissed. “You don’t _say_ stuff like that on a mission, do you _want_ to make us all paranoid and jumpy? Just… be quiet, and stand still, and stay on guard.”

Tiida cleared his throat for the first time, glancing back from his position guarding the other direction of the tunnel. “You two, knock it off. No messing around, we’re in enemy territory.”

Two mutters of “sorry” came back, and silence reigned in the corridor for another minute or so as Rizu moved from body to body. After what seemed a much longer period that it actually was, she finished her examinations and field treatments.

“I’ve done all I can, they’re all stable and in good condition to transport,” she spoke up. “I’ll just… um…” Her hands shaking slightly, she attached the teleport marker to the last person’s body, and activated them. The hallway shimmered for a moment as the powerful teleportation booths on the ships outside detected the beacons and teleported them, and the downed mages they were attached to, back onto the Asura.

“Okay. Um… we should go and ch-check the nearby corridors in case anyone else is there, b-but I think that’s almost it?” She glanced at Tiida as she said it, looking for confirmation. He nodded.

“Yes, I think… let me check.” He consulted his Device quickly, checking the lists of the boarding parties. “Yes, it looks like almost all of the first wave boarding parties have been recovered. We can probably just scout out this local area until the last few are found, and then…”

He was cut off by a violent explosion below them. Almost before they had finished registering it, there came another, and another, and another. The chain of detonations shook the floor, throwing Mei off her feet and drawing a yelp of surprise from Rizu as she dropped back down to a crouch. Heidi stumbled, almost tripping over a downed drone and catching herself against the wall.

 _‘Elisabet’s ivory!’_ she swore _‘What’s going…’_

Something went up near the path of explosions with a roar, and another savage tremor struck without warning. The jolt threw all of them to the floor this time, sending them sprawling as alarms and sirens began to wail. Somewhere deep in the Garden, a lurching wrench that they had felt before began. A Jewel Seed activating.

 _‘I don’t know!’_ Tiida’s voice was tense with panic, the telepathic communications fading in and out as waves of magic rippled and surged through the Garden. _‘I think… the defences… back online!’_

_‘How? They… offline, weren’t…’_

_‘Run!’_

It was Rizu who screamed the last word, out loud as well as over the link. All eyes turned to her, following her wide-eyed gaze and frantic pointing finger.

On the floor, the automata were glowing. Violet light licked around them, crackling over the brassy exteriors, sinking into the black joints, blazing from the eye grills and lighting up the runes and glyphs etched into their armour and along their swords.

The backup team needed no reminder of what happened when a Jewel Seed warped matter like clay. They turned and ran, questions and arguments forgotten in the silent race to get as far away as possible, as quickly as they could.

Behind them, the last of the violet light permeated the fallen combat drones. For a moment they stayed where they were, as long-inactive protocols ran through their cores, lighting up pathways and command lines that had lain dormant for millennia.

And then, as one, they rose.

…


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Nanoha clung to Vesta, almost riding her as they moved down the corridor past endless carvings and recessed alcoves. She didn’t react to the explosions from below, or Vesta’s attempts at cheerful, distracting chatter. She didn’t cry, either. All her tears had dried. She just laid her cheek on the long, silky fur that stuck up slightly in a ruff around Vesta’s neck.

_‘… and I was chasing it, but it kept going away from me, the tricksy little thing. So I tried changing direction, and that made me even more dizzy, and I bumped into one of the robots and since I was only kitten-sized it hurt…’_

The prattling was comfortable background noise, a sound to reassure her that the world was still there as she thought. She could barely feel herself moving as Vesta carried her along. The sleek muscles along the tigress’s back rippled as she paced along, a nine-year old girl draped over her back with a haunted expression of inner turmoil on her face.

She had hurt people. Well, technically the pseudo-summon had… but no, she had summoned it. Even if she hadn’t really known what she was doing – especially that, in fact. If anything, the fact that she’d been messing with something she hadn’t understood properly just made it worse. She should have made sure she knew what it did before altering things, instead of working out most of it and then hoping for the best.

Precia wouldn’t have made a mistake like that. She _knew_ about the Jewel Seeds, she had done tests and experiments and… and stuff like that. It was something she needed to emulate. Next time, Nanoha vowed, she would make sure she knew _exactly_ what she was doing before she started messing with ancient technology or spells she didn’t understand.

_‘… only you’re all not-moving and lying-on-me and staring-at-stuff so maybe you’re hurt? Lemme see… there were some tests that Arf-senpai ran me through to check I was made properly, so… um… hmm. Ah, yeah! Can you tell me how many fingers… wait, no. Um. How many ears do I have? No? Okay, can you see in colour? Do you remember how to speak? Come on mistress, talk to me! Okay… can you change shapes... well no, if you could, it'd be very scary… um… I don’t remember the others very well… can you add three and twenty two? Or…’_

But regardless of what she was going to do in the future, this time she had hurt people. That shot had ripped the side off the ship, and she had seen the people get pulled out by the decompression. Though… they had been teleported out, and they were at least still _moving_ , so… maybe they were okay? Or at least not going to die. Barrier Jackets allowed you to survive in space, Nanoha knew – she had asked about it when she’d found out where the Garden was. And if she was attacking some place like this, she’d definitely make everyone wear Barrier Jackets. So… she _probably_ hadn’t actually killed anyone.

And she had shot the construct! That was something! It didn’t outweigh that she’d activated it in the first place, but as soon as she’d realised what it was doing, she’d moved to stop it! And it was probably only because of her that it hadn’t hit the ship dead-on and killed everybody. Saving people when you’d put them in danger in the first place probably didn’t count as much, but it had to cancel out some of the blame, didn’t it?

_‘… dunno whether you’ve noticed, but the explosions are really getting kind of loud, so if you wanted to wake up now it would be a really good time to do it, and then we could go and find Fate and Arf-senpai and go back to where Linith-oneesama is…’_

So. She had messed up, that was certain. But probably not as badly as she’d thought. And while she still bore some of the blame, so did the TSAB – they were the ones who had come here to attack them, who had shot at the Garden and who wanted to kill Alicia!

So it was… both of their faults. Everyone’s fault and nobody’s fault. Which was _hard_ to wrap her head around, that people could do bad things to each other without anyone being to blame. But life wasn’t fair always – she’d known that since her father got hurt. You just had to put up with it, and try to make it better yourself however you could.

 _‘… gotta say I’m_ really _getting kinda sorta worried about you, cause you shot that thingy and now you’re all lying there and maybe you sort of cooked your brains a bit when you shot it and if you did then please please_ please _get better because even though I’ll stay with you and look after you forever no matter what I’d really hate it if you were all comatose and… oh, but don’t think you get rides like this all the time! This is a one-time only deal, okay? I love you and all, but letting you ride me places would be like_ work _, and that’s just eww…’_

And that meant that she should be doing something to fix the situation, not lying here! She had messed up, so now she needed to make things _right_. And, she realised as she belatedly processed what Vesta was saying, she needed to reassure her familiar that she wasn’t in a coma. Her arms were already draped around the tigress’s neck, so she tightened them in a quick hug.

“Sorry Vesta,” she whispered. “I’m okay, really. I just had to… think about things, before I could... um… do anything else. It was important.”

Vesta huffed indignantly. _‘Well it must have been a pretty hard thinky thing! I thought you were unconscious or something! For whole minutes! Next time you should tell me before you go into a thinky trance, so I can protect you better! I mean, what if…’_

[Protection,]

_‘… eh?’_

A pink dome surrounded them as Raising Heart’s auto-defences engaged, tinting the corridor in rose light. A split-second later, a glowing sword-blade crashed into it point first, sending sparks flying in all directions as it skittered off the magical barrier.

 _‘Ahhh! Stupid machine!’_ Vesta yelled, jumping away from the silent, intent figure that had attacked them. _‘Aren’t these things meant to be on our side? No fair! Switching sides and attacking people is cheating when you don’t give a warning first!’_

“No… Vesta, _look!_ ”

Nanoha pointed, and Vesta followed her gaze to the eye-slits of the mecha that were massing together in a group, swords drawn. They glowed a familar deep indigo-violet colour. The same unearthly radiance trickled through the black material of the automaton’s under-layer, visible at its joints and where the brassy armour didn’t cover. It lit symbols carved into the smooth material and pooled in similar glyphs that ran down the length of the sword it carried.

_‘… I’m fairly sure evil glowiness is bad, mistress..’_

Vesta didn’t waste any more time quipping, though. Feeling Nanoha shift to a get a more stable seat on her back, she sprung away as four of the machines darted forward again. Their stabbing blades barely nicked the edge of the barrier as it moved with them, and Vesta crouched slightly, baring her teeth at them as her tail lashed from side to side. A low, rumbling growl built in her throat as she eyed her opponents and took stock of the situation.

They were spreading out as much as they could in the narrow corridor, trying to flank her. On her back, Nanoha had pulled up her legs and buried her hands in the long fur of her ruff, riding her as if she were a very small horse.

The ten-centimetre claws and fangs seemed to be deterring the automata for the moment, but they were edging closer. The ones on the side of the corridor were moving a little faster than those in the middle, who were obviously trying to keep her attention. She could see what was going to happen. In a handful of seconds, the ones on the edges would rush past her and form up behind her, boxing her in. Nanoha was maintaining the barrier, but the subtle ebb and flow of magic clued Vesta in. She was picking her targets, preparing shooting spells. Probably planning to fire just as they charged. It would happen in only a second…

So Vesta acted sooner.

Slamming both front paws down on the ground hard, she opened her jaws wide and _roared_. The sound echoed startlingly well in the smooth stone-metal surfaces of the corridor, creating a cacophony of terrifying noise. She accompanied it with the brightest flash of light she could create, a blinding burst of red light aimed for their optical sensors.

The eyes of the automata were adjusted to see in the low-light conditions, and pick up on the faint sounds of movement in the maze of tunnels. Without the surge protectors that kept Nanoha’s sight and hearing safe from the attack, and with their senses tuned for acute sensitivity, they were blinded and deafened by the thundering roar and the brilliant light that Vesta unleashed upon them.

The front row reacted instantly, spinning into a stabbing, swirling series of movements designed to keep away any attack that the girl and her familiar tried to launch while they were unable to see or hear. Glowing swordblades sliced through the air, hissing viciously.

And cut nothing.

 _‘You’re not part of our objective,’_ sang Vesta’s telepathic voice from somewhere in the distance, _‘so we don’t have to stay and fight youuuuu!’_

Unable to understand the taunt, the automata ceased their useless movements and waited for the last of the saturation to clear from their senses, before moving forward into pursuit.

Four tunnels away and still accelerating, Nanoha was once again pressed flat against Vesta’s body, hugging her familiar as much as riding her. Now, though, it had nothing to do with preoccupation, and everything to do with _speed_. Vesta all but flew down the corridors, bounding in long, loping strides away from the combat drones.

 _‘Mistress!’_ she complained in annoyed tones, just as Nanoha was about to scold her for throwing a taunt back at their mechanical adversaries. ‘Why have all the robots gone evil and started trying to kill us? Did you _cause that by setting the control chamber on fire?’_

“What?” exclaimed Nanoha, “No! Um. Probably not, anyway. I mean… uh… I don’t _think_ so… anyway, they were glowing! Like, Jewel Seed glowing! I think one of the Seeds in the reactor must have activated!” She paused. “And that wasn’t my fault either! Uh… I hope.”

 _‘…’_ Vesta seemed remarkably unconvinced by that, but managed a feline shrug as she skidded past left at a fork in the road and just about managed to avoid a sword-swipe from the automata that had been blocking the right-hand path. _‘Fine. Still, we gotta not get caught by them. New mission: we need to get away from the evil crazy robot Jewel Seed monster-robots! Especially before they start doing something even weirder!’_

“Okay.” That was certainly a goal Nanoha could agree with. “Sounds good. But where do we go?”

Vesta hesitated, uncertain. But her question was answered by another source, cutting into their conversation telepathically with an edge of strained panic tinting the normally cheerful voice.

 _‘Fate! Arf! Nanoha! Vesta! Make for the central chamber as fast as you can!’_ Linith urged them.

_‘Precia and I are under attack!’_

…

Linith worked quickly and precisely, stepping over the shattered pieces of what had only moments ago been her automata guards. She was trying hard not to rush, or get sloppy in her haste. She could feel the ground shaking; hear the approaching explosions as the team of elite mages broke through floor after floor of the Garden far beneath her feet. She had thought her redirections had got them good and lost in the maze of underpassages, but it appeared they had found their way regardless, and now they were taking the direct route to her. Her… and her mistress.

The huge outpouring of magic from the chamber she was guarding probably didn’t help. Even in the mana-saturated environment of the Garden, the sheer amount of power going into the culmination of Precia’s ritual was as subtle as… well, as Nanoha, though Linith felt a little guilty about making that mental comparison.

Of course, the team smashing though the floors she’d spent some considerable time trying to make homey were far from quiet themselves. But while she had called Fate, Nanoha and their familiars back to help; it would be some time before they arrived. She would have to hold the team here for as long as she could.

She touched the wall, and another tan casting array blossomed on it, the squares within the Midchildan circle rotating for a second before stabilising. The walls were covered with them by now, ranging from the size of a spread hand to almost a metre across. She glanced around, choosing the next spot half at random and half to ensure proper coverage of the hallway. They were going in a straight line, so it wasn’t exactly hard to tell where they were going to come through, but there was still a little uncertainty. And she did not want to waste this opportunity.

A crashing sound heralded their approach. They were close, now. Probably only a few floors away, and progressing in rapid bursts of speed that tore through multiple floors at a time. Reaching up, she made an educated guess as to where they would come through, and poured power into one last spell.

This circle was so wide as to brush the edges of the corridor. She held on just long enough to let it stabilise, and then leapt back. Far, far back. And waited, her faced washed in the light of her magic.

She didn’t have to wait long. An explosion thundered below her, and the floor – the only part of the corridor unmarked by sigils – exploded violently upwards. Chunks of rubble battered off the ceiling and Linith tensed, but they merely rained back down again and scattered off a navy blue barrier. She waited just long enough to confirm that all three figures she expected were inside the glowing bubble. 

Her face utterly composed, Linith triggered the array.

And every spell in the corridor detonated at once.

Some people might have stopped there, as the dust of rubble and debris filled the air and swirled down towards them. But Linith knew what she faced. She moved her hands again, and the circle on the ceiling flared. The others had all been one-shot mines, but this one was more. Tan light crackled, and lightning poured down from above, filling the smoky air

Yes, her mistress had taught her well. Created her well.

And still Linith did not stop. She motioned, and a dozen circles spread out in front of her, pointing towards the billowing dust and smoke. A ripple passed through them, and they began to fire, pouring bolt after bolt of tan light into the smoke. She couldn’t see her targets, but neither could they see her, and if they aimed for where the shots were coming from they would hit nothing. Shooting spell after shooting spell lanced into the dust as she moved on a circling path, never staying in one place long enough for them to retaliate or return fire.

Except… they weren’t.

Not that this was a bad thing in principle. But Linith knew what she faced. She didn’t believe for a second that the explosion had succeeded in putting them down, and if an S-rank opponent wasn’t retaliating when under attack, if an S-rank opponent _wasn’t acting as expected_ …

… well, it probably wasn’t the best idea to give them a chance to put their plan into effect.

‘Photon Barret,’ she mouthed unconsciously, and cast into the cloud. It started as a wave of tan light, but broke apart into motes even as it crashed forwards. Sweeping the lingering dust in the air aside, the avalanche of particles barrelled on until they struck something.

Something, in this case, was a shield. And the avalanche reacted, closing in around it like a fist. Each mote was tiny in and of itself, an impact that any shield spell could have shrugged off. But as each mote struck, it drew the rest in, pulling the entire construct in to concentrate its full force and fury on the protective dome. Tens of thousands of impacts hammering it proved too much for the navy blue shield, and it broke.

And from below it, in the gaping hole in the floor that they had come through, something blurred towards her.

Linith cursed even as she shifted into her war form. It had been a trick! They had dropped down with the explosion – perhaps they had never risen above the surface at all. She lunged at the blurred shape, but instead of retaliating, it jerked to the right, even as another flashed by on her left. That one she managed to land a blow on, whirling round and raking her claws down something hard and many-layered. But the blow didn’t penetrate, and the mage kept going. Ignoring her. Heading for Precia.

Snarling, she bounded after it, preparing a bind that would slow the two fast-moving mages. And then dived to the side, even as something came down on where she had been a second ago, slamming two metre-long rods into the floor hard enough to splinter it. The lithe, agile shape resolved itself into a woman a little shorter than her, with grey hair and a black uniform. The cat ears and tail marked her as another familiar – a cat like Linith herself. She pushed off from where she had landed, flipping over in midair to land between Linith and her fast-receding companions.

“Hi,” she grinned. “I’m Lotte. And sorry, but you’re staying here.”

A flick of her wrist, and the rods she held began to glow with a deep blue light. She twirled them once, and then settled into a relaxed stance, a faintly smug smile on her face.

In her War Form, Linith probably outmassed the girl by three or four times. And with her mistress in danger, she was not in the mood for games. She snarled, unsheathed her claws, and lunged.

And with her batons humming through the air and a wild grin on her face, Lotte leapt forward to meet her.

…

A barrage of red bullets and purple needles punched through brass armour, and the man-sized golem locked up, frozen in place. The four woefully underarmed and undertrained members of the back-up team crouched behind the green wall of magic Mei was maintaining with gritted teeth, Rizu clutching her hand. In her other hand her staff was adding a few shots to the dedicated shooting mages’ fire. Blue-violet light radiated through the carvings in the walls, setting off mana exposure alarms in their Barrier Jackets.

“Just hold it for a few more...” Tiida grated, crouched behind the chest-high barrier as he focused the fire from his two pistols at the larger ape-like golem. Something detonated in one of its legs and it lurched; Heidi was more than willing to encourage this as a larger barb hit it in the weakened spot and sent it sprawling.

“My Device is running hot,” she warned, as the nozzles by its staff-head vented gas. A tendril of magic in an ugly pink-blue flickered out and lashed against the impromptu barrier-wall. Mei winced at the force, her arm buckling as the extended mode of her Device took the blow, but she held it even as the tendril scraped and clawed at the smooth surface.

[Scatter Shot,] Rizu’s device declared, and a cluster of small green-blue bullets hit the attacking appendage, severing it. Fire from the two shooting mages took the prone source of the tendril down, its explosion sending shrapnel scything out to bounce off walls, armour, jackets and barriers alike.

 _‘Team Reserve Three!’_ a voice crackled over interference-heavy telepathy, _‘If you can hear this, get moving! We have a secure teleport lock on a location near you, but it’s unstable! If you miss this, you might have to try to get out of the Garden to get a lock – the entire place is breaking apart and some areas are falling into i-space!’_

“Move!” Tiida ordered. “To the next fallback point! We’re nearly there for pick-up!” 

Rizu let go of her slightly frazzled-looking half-sister, and gripped her staff in both hands. The shield-wall folded back into Mei’s shield, and she rose from her crouch in a practiced movement to slash her sword in a diagonal cut. A green line of force scythed out from her blade to cut one of the small unarmed drones in half, and the china-faced doll with Jewel Seed-coloured eyes fell and shattered. The team already suspected that those ones were not combat drones, but the... the whatever-was-happening – probably a Jewel Seed – didn’t seem to care.

Mei led the way, her melee weapons at the ready, while the two staff-armed mages merely lowered their Devices and ran for it. Tiida flew slightly behind them, facing backwards and firing to cover their retreat. The four of them ran for their lives, following that desperate hope of the floating navigational icon.

And hence when the floor fell away and the ceiling followed it downwards, it came as an unwelcome surprise. Tossed around like ragdolls, even the flight-capable mage among them could do little more than hold onto a wall and try to match the movement.

 _‘The corridor is moving!’_ Mei mentally broadcast, somewhat unnecessarily.

Heidi’s yell of rage – or possibly pain – was inarticulate, yet neatly managed to summarise the team’s consensus.

Eventually, movement stopped. The four of them were left sprawled over a vast mural which burned with cold blue-white manalight. The nature of the image was discovered by Heidi, who much to her displeasure had to pick herself up off a life-sized image of Nanoha Takamachi done in the Alhazredian style, which was radiating dangerous levels of mana.

“Injuries?” Rizu managed, scrambling away from the leaking systems. She massaged her right arm which had taken the brunt of her impacts, and shone a light over the corridor. Shadows danced over the walls, alcoves cast into darkness as her light skipped over them. “Ow. Ow. I’m... I’m just bruised. But you?”

Their red-haired lieutenant winced as he felt at his left eye. “I think I managed to hit myself in the face with my gun and then hit a wall,” he said. “Or something. My face barriers didn’t seem to hold up and... oww.”

Heidi nodded. “You’re going to have a royal black eye there tonight, sir, with luck. And I say ‘with luck’, because there’s nothing on comms now – nothing from the ships. Kaisers only know what just happened there.”

“I’ll s-see to it,” Rizu said, reaching out with a green-glowing hand. “You need b-both eyes working. And Mei seems to be fine,” she added, because the green-silver haired girl was already on her feet, eyes and a single mana-scout scanning the area.

“Nothing to report,” she said. “The golems in our section did even worse than us – lack of jackets, I think. And none of them were the big ape ones, or any of those even larger ones we just ran from. So... yeah. My scout’s checked out the place that was meant to be the rally point – nothing there. Inertials are screwed, though, so I don’t know where we are. Jacket went into survival mode.”

“We’ll just have to move, try to pick up a signal from... from any friendly at all,” Tiida said, bringing out both weapons again. “Or... well, at the moment, I’d even welcome the 97er or even Testarossa. I don’t think they meant for the golems to go like that – they were all non-lethal before. Also, their eyes weren’t glowing like Jewel Seeds. And…”

He was interrupted by a series of ear-popping clunks and the noise of tearing metal. Then came a wave of uncomfortable pressure, and a chest-crushing tightness of breath. Eyes ached in their sockets and gasps of air – or something like it – were forced from protesting lungs.

[Adjusting for shift in atmospheric composition,] four Devices chorused in unison, and a barely-there corona of magic flared to life for a moment.

“Ah… fire suppression system, I think,” Heidi coughed. Her voice was momentarily shifted deeper from the denser atmosphere, before the interface fields of her barrier jacket adjusted to compensate. “Yes,” she added, an icon floating in front of her left eye. “It’s a see-oh-two slash argon mix. Oh-two levels are down to eight per cent, and falling fast. Yes, it’s almost certainly fire suppression, then. If this was some kind of defence system, they wouldn’t be using those gasses. They’d be using something more lethal,” she said darkly.

Tiida pursed his lips. “Keep away from any of those i-space rifts, whatever the cost,” he ordered. “If something interferes with your jacket…”

“… w-we’d be unconscious in a few breaths,” Rizu said weakly, face paling to the colour of milky coffee. “The oxygen’ll be coming out of the blood be-because of the c-concentration gradient, and… and… and you’d just black out. It’s only our air-recycling keeping us alive.”

The lieutenant winced. “Okay, that’s even worse than I thought,” he admitted. “When we get out of this – and we _are_ going to get out of this, all of us – I’ll try to kick up a fuss about how we need better life support jackets even if we’re not specialist space-ops.” His eyes were serious as he added, “Everyone. Prep a filter-exchange spell on your Devices, and hit it if anyone loses their Jacket because of these things. We shouldn’t lose anyone from a survivable blow just because of this air.”  
“That’s not the only thing,” Mei said, her eyes constantly flicking around. Unlike her teammates, she was not breathing hard, and there was no edge of panic in her demeanour. “If the fire suppression systems are on… does that mean there’s a fire?”

“We’ll have to risk it,” Tiida decided, after a moment’s thought. “We can’t head back, and… Kaisers protect that the place is getting damaged enough that it can’t reconfigure as much. Rizu, it’s your turn to try a distress pulse.”

“Still just noise and that damn incomprehensible chatter on all bands,” Heidi reminded him, not turning to face him as she covered the corridor behind them. “It’s more likely to just bring them down on us.”

“I know!” the man snapped, glaring back at the taller woman. “I know,” he repeated, more calmly, “but we need to try.”

The four-note telepathic beacon echoed out. There was no pulse in return, not even the slightest shift in the alien babble which flooded the telepathic communications bands. So, ants in a crumbling house, the team continued their too-slow advance. Despite every nerve in their bodies telling them to run, Tiida insisted on them maintaining proper covered advances. All they had to do was get into space, and they could be picked up even if a teleport beacon couldn’t cut through the noise. It would do them no good to run into a formation of those Jewel Seed-afflicted golems because they were too careless. 

It was Rizu, walking forwards with her hands pressed together as she remotely controlled a scout spell, who called them to a stop. “There’s something up ahead,” she said. They were talking, simply because even the trickle of power needed for telepathy might be needed for something else. “A chamber, or something. Light from it… m-maybe fire, maybe red-orange magic glow. I can’t see any fire.”

Tiida screwed his eyes shut to think. “Intertials are still no good,” he said, speaking more to himself than anyone else. “A chamber… it’s large?” He nodded, a motion which turned into an uneasy lurch as gravity ceased to provide a steady pull. “Whoa!” He threw an arm out, catching Heidi’s shoulder and pushing her gently into the wall, where she found a handhold. Grabbing one to stabilise himself, he checked around to make sure that the others had done likewise, and motioned to Rizu to continue.

“Uh… um… yes,” Rizu confirmed, holding onto a door mantel with a white-knuckled grip. “A-at least fifty metres wide, and… and I think it’s taller than it is wide. I c-can’t see too much of it.”

Tiida paused. He had three-dimensional combat training as a fully trained air mage, unlike his subordinates. “Lock onto this plane,” he said, “because if gravity comes back, it’ll probably be in the same orientation. We’ll bound two-by-two forwards to that broken spar, and then Heidi and Rizu as Team Two will be on rearguard, while Mei… we’ll see what’s in the chamber.”

…

The view from the end of the corridor was breathtaking in its own way. It opened out into a colossal cylinder, cabling and strange structures jutting out from the walls. In one direction, it was almost pitch black, lit only by blinding arcs of electricity and raw mana which forced their Barrier Jackets to darken to avoid burning out the retinas of their wearers. The other end still had red lights all along the heavily dented walls. And everywhere in the tube was free-floating debris, drifting the slow dance of orbital mechanics. Fluctuations of local gravity led to currents and shifts, to the extent that Tiida could have sworn that the place was underwater rather than in the depths of space.

Eyes wide, he watched as a delicately engraved filigree of silver drifted past, smeared in oils that had it gleaming iridescent in the light. He switched to thermal vision, and exhaled as he saw it was almost red-hot; that it was only the atmospheric replacement which was keeping it from igniting the cloud of oil droplets around it.

“This is no chamber,” Mei breathed. “Ti… sir! This is either a hangar for entire vessels, or possibly the firing chamber of a planet-killing superweapon! Could be either given what this place is like!”

Lieutenant Lanster shot a dirty glare at his subordinate. She was technically correct there, but she didn’t need to sound so enthusiastic as she bounded between walls, ceiling and floor – and did a remarkably good impersonation of a fully-trained ground-assault mage three ranks her superior. “Either way, it should lead to the outside,” he said. “And since the weapons aren’t firing any more…”

 _‘Unless the way this place has been shifting sealed it off’_ , Heidi interjected acerbically, _‘or possibly our side managed to fuse the end shut. Or we get mashed to a pulp by the debris. Or the red-hot oil I can see on Mei’s link.’_

“If we see a green glow, we should probably run,” Mei said helpfully. 

“We’ll try it,” Tiida ordered. “We’re going to get out of this. All of us; I’m not going to have to explain to your parents that I let you get killed under my watch. Team Two, move up; then I’m going to try another pulse. We’ll head away from the mana arcs; stick to the walls even if you can fly in zero-gee. Take it slow and steady at first, until we’re used to it.”

The responses from his team were more enthusiastic, more willing that he could ever have possibly hoped for. Kaisers, what a mess; that they’d got snarled up in this because of sheer chance. He was proud of them all, though. And this had to be the end of it; once they were back on the ships they would – all of them – be safe.

The red-haired man ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the plastic-like feel of the unseen barriers over it – the barriers which were the only thing keeping them alive. His left eye was aching despite the healing it had, but at least it was not swollen. “Well done,” he said simply. “All three of you. You’re... you’re doing a wonderful job keeping it together. We shouldn’t be here, and... and you saw how I tried to keep you off the mission but...”

“Yes, yes,” Mei said flatly. “If you don’t mind, sir, can we just move? And get out of here before this place explodes. Or maybe implodes. Something-plodes, at least.”

Heidi seemed about to respond to that, but was interrupted by a groan from above them. One of the huge, hulking wrecks attached to the wall of the shaft had come loose from its moorings, and was drifting slowly out into the open. There was a huge gash down one side, with wires and pipes spilling out of it like strands of hair underwater.

“Sir…” cautioned Heidi, her train of thought snapped back onto their current situation. She was already consulting her AR display. “We can’t stay here, not if the shaft is unstable. We need to move.”

As if to put the lie to her words, a scream rang out from the broken wreck, high-pitched and terrified. Four pairs of eyes swung up towards it in alarm. “The hell?” demanded Mei. “There are people still here? Besides us, I mean.”

“Apparently.” Tiida was already reorienting his path towards the ship. “Come on, we…”

“Wait! Sir!” Heidi held up a hand, stalling him and speaking rapidly as she consulted the windows popping up in front of her eyes. “That scream wasn’t human. There was _way_ too much high-frequency noise in it, and it goes up in to the ultrasonic. Maybe it’s a corrupt recording, maybe it’s a machine, but… that’s not a living human.”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a second as they took this in. Then Tiida snapped back into action in alarm. “Fall back!” he ordered, in quiet but urgent tones. “As fast as possible. Mei, pair with Rizu, help her move. Heidi, with me.” He grabbed the offered wrist, pulling her away from the ship even as Mei expertly pushed off towards her half-sister, guiding her quickly and quietly away from what was probably an ambush.

They barely got twenty metres before the ambusher realised its trap had failed. With a screeching roar, it tore its way out of the ship and kicked off in pursuit.

Rizu was the only one still looking back at the time, and so she was the first one to scream as she saw it. It was an appropriate reaction. The automaton was huge, one of the larger models they had fled from earlier. At least twice as tall as Heidi, it resembled a great ape more than a human, with arms thicker than Mei’s torso and a torso that looked like it could double as a car bonnet. In one hand, it held a huge length of torn metal wrenched from the wreck, and it moved with frightening speed and agility as it angled towards drifting pieces of debris to kick off in its bid to catch up to them.

“Sir! It’s gaining!” Heidi warned, rather more loudly than was strictly necessary. Tiida acted instantly, spinning them once to build momentum before letting go of her arm. They shot off in different directions, and he continued his turn until he was flying backwards. Drawing both pistols, he began firing as fast as he could, sending a stream of bullets in the head of the monstrous form in an attempt to slow it down and draw its attention.

It worked. With an angry screech that was modulated far too high for such a huge, hulking form, the ape-thing launched itself after him, the impromptu club raised to swat him out of the air. Heidi yelled, peppering its back with purple barbs, but to no avail. The jagged club swung…

… and was torn from its hand by a beam of pink light that sent it flying off to crash into the wall. Devoid of its weapon, the robot’s swing sent it into an uncontrolled spin that left it easy prey for another beam, thicker and brighter, to smash into its chest-plate and hurl it back towards the ship.

Heart pounding from the near miss, Tiida turned to look at his timely saviour.

It was the 97er girl and her familiar. They looked like they had run into some trouble – there were scorch marks marring the white fabric of the girl’s Barrier Jacket and the familiar had open claw marks all down one flank. But none of that mattered, because at that moment, an AA-rank mage was _exactly_ what Tiida wanted to see, regardless of her allegiances.

“We heard screaming,” she was saying to him, “are you- oh!” Recognition dawned as Tiida remembered her name – Takamachi, that was it. “It’s you. Um.” A brief look of uncertainty spread across her face. “Uh… hi?”

A furious screech rang out from the direction of the wrecked ship. Tiida glanced towards it and winced at the sight of the ape-construct ripping its way free from the tangle of metal it had been sent into. It looked, if anything, even more monstrous than it had when it was charging him. Jewel Seed light flared from its eyes, and its armour rippled and reconfigured as cannons the length of his forearm slid out from its shoulders.

Tiida turned to the young girl beside him, who was looking at the thing with an expression that mirrored his own feelings. “Please shoot it, not us?” he asked desperately.

Wide-eyed, Nanoha nodded. The ape-construct shrilled and charged, leaping onto the wall and galloping up it with startling speed, the massive arms swinging back and forth from handhold to handhold.

Then its shoulder cannons swivelled towards them, and began to chatter, sending the beleaguered mages scattering like startled birds.

…

Elsewhere in the Garden, another confrontation was taking place at a crossroads in the Garden’s underbelly. Two dark-clad figures flitted between green and orange shields, firing at the stubby barrels on the walls and ceiling that spat hissing jets of mana at them. Blue blades raked one of the walls, while electric spheres fried the circuitry of those on the other.

The last offending component of the local defence system was broken off the ceiling by an orange ball that sent it clattering down the corridor, and the two groups reformed. Fate and Chrono watched one another warily, polearms ready to leap back into combat at a moment’s notice. But in light of the circumstances, they were willing to talk. For now.

“Look,” insisted Chrono heatedly, continuing a conversation that had been interrupted by the sentry guns sliding out of the walls without missing a beat, “we can’t afford to keep fighting each other, not with… whatever is happening now. I think it’s a Jewel Seed – the automata are warping, and don’t try to pretend that you’ve still got any control over them. We need to work together, just until the current crisis is over. Like we did with the submarine.”

Fate nodded slowly. “Until whatever’s happening stops… yes. But no further. Once this stops, or we get to Mother…”

“Whoa, hold on, no,” Chrono cut in. “Go towards _Precia Testarossa?_ With the elite team en route to bring her in? Are you crazy? We should make for a rally point.”

Fate and Arf exchanged glances. Then the wolf turned back to Chrono. _‘Fine,’_ she shrugged. _‘If you think there are any left in all of_ this _,’_ she jerked her head in an encompassing gesture that took in the distant explosions, the by-now-omnipresent grinding caused by the Garden’s internal structure shifting, changing and breaking down and the various threats and hazards roaming loose, _‘then go off and try to find them on your own. But I’m going to save my mother.’_

Chrono stared at her in frank disbelief for a second. His face twisted in annoyance as he tried to find a hole in her argument, and settled into a scowl as he found none. “Fine,” he bit out. “Then I suppose this truce lasts until we get there, and no longer?”

“We won’t attack first,” offered Fate. “Not unless Mother is in danger. That’s the best I can offer right now.”

Chrono sighed. “It’ll have to do. Though you really should make for a rally point and turn yourself in. Precia is _manipulating_ you. We did the research; Precia's real daughter died, you must have been a cloning project or…”

He stopped there, as Fate lashed out in a slap. She caught herself before it connected, but only barely, and channelled the anger into a glare of such venom that Chrono actually took half a step back. “I _know_ that,” she bit out through tight lips, “and I've known for _years_ , since she told me the truth. And how _dare_ you say I'm not her real daughter? _She's my mother_ , Alicia's my _sister_ ; just because she didn't give birth to me _doesn't make things any different!_ ”

 _‘Fate!’_ Arf was snarling too, but she visibly reigned herself in. “Fate, he’s still right about teaming up. You don’t have to listen to him, just work with him to not get killed! We’re safer together than alone!”

The words seemed to pull the blonde girl back down from her anger, and she shot Chrono another cold glare. Yuuno’s polite cough defused the lingering tension further as he held up a hand to draw their attention.

“Ah… yes. If we are going to group together and move towards the core, I think we need to go… that way.” He pointed down one of the tunnels, which looked more or less the same as any of the others. There was no flickering firelight, no lurking shapes or smoke. Somehow, though, the absence of any visual threat was just as intimidating as the real thing, as the distant sounds of thunder, clanging movement and the hiss and crackle of flames and arcing current drifted to them. There was no way to pinpoint the source of the sounds, the tunnels conducted sound like a giant echo chamber. They could be hundreds of metres away, or in the next tunnel over.

“Well,” said Chrono, looking warily at Fate and Arf. He didn’t trust them entirely, but in a situation like this he didn’t have much of a choice. “Let’s go, then.”

…

Pink and red blended together in a hail so dense it was difficult to see through it, following the fast-moving form that leapt from handhold to handhold on the walls of the shaft. The ape-construct was far too agile, and even the homing shots were failing to land on it. It retaliated with violet-edged disks of mana that curved oddly as they swung towards Nanoha.

[Flash Move,]

A blurred motion took her to the other side of a slowly pinwheeling hunk of metal that looked like it had come off a ship’s engine. She lurked behind it for a moment as the ape-drone swiped at Tiida, the shoulder cannons switching seamlessly to targeting him. It seemed to prefer attacking her – maybe because she was the smallest or maybe because it thought she was the biggest threat. Either way, she would need to go back into the fight soon.

Her visor’s HUD bleeped at her insistently as it unsuccessfully fought to get a lock on the automaton’s fleet movements. Nanoha’s mind raced with it, searching for a tactic that would work. Trying to bind it hadn’t done any good, and Vesta’s war form wasn’t fast enough to keep up with it. Her human form could, but that was too frail – even now, she was pursuing it with blood-red claws extended, fading into visibility occasionally as she diverted power from her illusion into steel-rending swipes at its flanks and midsection. Maybe if she layered a bind into a shooting spell?

It was too fast, that was the problem. The only one of them who was able to hit it with any sort of reliability was the very tall blonde girl with her sniping-tuned Device, but her shots were far too weak to do anything more than annoy it. Nanoha’s eyes widened. Too weak on their own, maybe, but as long as she could _hit_ it…

_‘Vesta! Break off and support… um… the blonde girl! Use a mana transfer spell, see if you can help her punch through that thing’s armour!’_

Vesta leapt away from a crushing fist that cratered the wall where it landed, and waved assent. Pushing off from where she had been dancing around the monster’s wild swipes, she soared towards Heidi. Nanoha saw the Indian-looking girl move to boost her friend further, turquoise magic shimmering around her hands.

Nanoha nodded. Good. Now her job was to distract it until those shots could do some damage, and keep it from going after the newly-boosted sniper. She swerved out from behind her temporary cover, announcing her return with a cluster of tightly grouped shots aimed at the right-hand shoulder cannon. If she could get rid of those things, this would become _much_ easier.

The combat drone was still far faster than something of its size should have been, and evaded her attack with uncanny grace. But with their sniper able to do some real damage to it, the fight began to turn in their favour. Nanoha ducked and swerved the suppressing fire and occasional swipes from those terrifying, oversized claws, keeping her distance and returning fire in kind as brightly-glowing purple barbs lanced in to punch holes in the brassy armour of the thing. She cheered as one of the shoulder cannons was snapped in half, and drew back a little, allowing the thing’s attention to turn back to Tiida.

“Raising Heart?” she whispered, concentrating hard and pulling up power. If it wanted to try and dodge whatever she threw at it, that was perfectly fine by her. She knew the response to that. Floating quietly upwards and towards the wall, she manoeuvred until she was directly above the acrobatic form bounding from hunks of debris to the wall and back as it tried to rip the red-headed lieutenant apart.

 _‘Back away!’_ Nanoha sent at him, readying her spell. He looked up and blanched, before pulling away as fast as his flight spell could take him. In all honesty, Nanoha couldn’t really blame him. She smiled cheerfully as the ape-drone’s head turned this way and that, before it looked up with an electronic trill.

“Hi!” she waved. “Come get me!”

It obliged, vaulting towards her with an eerie wail, violet disks smashing into her reflexively conjured shield like hammer-blows.

[Divine Barret,] spoke Raising Heart.

And Nanoha responded to its attack in kind.

Blazing pink rays shot out from Raising Heart’s tip in a hundred zig-zagging lines, flashing through the air in an expanding cone before converging on the charging figure. It tried to throw itself out of the way, but the beams altered course in a swifter motion still, spreading out again to strike it. It was struck once, then twice, then thrice by the rays, brighter motes within them discharging punishing blasts of mana into its form.

Then the rest of the attack came around to hammer at it with brutal, unforgiving light. It was left spinning slowly, intact but damaged, with dents and scorch marks marring the once-pristine armour and shattered nubs where its shoulder cannons had been.

Another bright barb slammed into the inside of the ape’s right elbow, the force of the shot spinning it through ninety degrees and snapping it out of its daze. With a loud ‘pop’, something gave in the joint, and the forearm twitched slightly as it tried to raise it. The squeal of grinding metal came before it got halfway, and the arm refused to rise above shoulder height. It landed against the wall and drove its left hand into the metal, lodging itself there as it surveyed its opponents.

“Hey big guy!” A spinning panel from the wall of the chamber itself caught the automaton in the side of the head with a clang. It turned, hissing, as Mei hurled another chunk of floating debris at it, spinning to gather momentum before releasing it. “Ha!”

This time, it reacted with uncanny speed. Letting go of the wall with its good arm, it caught the hefty metal block and whirled, launching it back at twice the speed it had caught it at. The momentum of the throw pushed the ape-droid itself back as well, at an unexpected angle. It bounced off the wall, skilfully landing feet first and launching itself again.

Taken by surprise, the mages tried to dodge. But too late, and far too slow. The enormous shape caught up to Tiida as he started to pull away, and brought its undamaged arm around in a vicious blow to his midsection. Like a red-headed ragdoll, he was sent tumbling through the empty space of the shaft, red droplets trailing behind him in the absence of gravity.

“Tiida!”

Nanoha wasn’t sure who the cry came from. She saw turquoise light gathering around his prone form as his trajectory angled towards one of the tunnels leading off from the shaft, slowing his uncontrolled descent and softening the inevitable landing. Vesta and the girl she was helping were diving towards him too. She couldn’t see whether they would get there in time, though, because she was abruptly forced to deal with a bigger problem. A diagonal dodge downwards, and a sweep of those massive arms missed her by so little distance that her hair was ruffled. It shrieked again, furiously trying to grab her comparatively tiny form in a bear hug as she ducked and flew for her life.

Even as she struggled to regain distance, though, it was pushing her back. Towards the tunnel! It was trying to go after the man it had injured! She could still save him! She had to! She started running through binds – at least that was one bonus of being so close. Her heart might leap into her throat with fear for every near miss, but _it_ couldn’t dodge _her_ , either.

[Restrict Lock,] chimed Raising Heart, as wheels of light appeared around its wrists and ankles. The ones on its arms shattered almost immediately, though, torn apart by the sheer brute force behind the movements.

“Stop!” she yelled at it in frustration. “Just stop moving! Restrict Lock! Divine Shooter! _Stop!_ ”

The binds slowed it. The shooting spells sparked and dented its armour. But it didn’t stop, and as the lethal claws came back around for another swing at her, she was forced to back away rapidly. She did not want to find out what a blow that could crater metal would do to her barriers, if she had to rely on them for defence.

The shaft shuddered slightly, and for a moment Nanoha felt something foreign tugging on her. She ignored it at first, as her opponent found another floating foothold and started to leap yet closer to the tunnel where the other mages were gathered around their lieutenant’s unmoving form. Pink shots and purple knocked it back again, but even with the injured arm, it didn’t seem too slowed. Another shudder started it drifting away again, though, much to its annoyance if the screech it let out was anything to judge by.

 _‘Nanoha!’_ It was Vesta’s voice. _‘Keep it away from the tunnel! They said the gravity is coming back on! Be ready when it does!’_

“Ha!” Green light pinwheeled by her as the sword-using girl leapt past, aiming straight for the automaton. “We’ll do better than that! Come on, big guy, you and me are going for a ride!” She cast a barrier in front of her just as it struck at her, pushing off it to jump over a blow that would have ripped her in half and grabbing its shoulders as she passed overhead. With a grunt of effort, she brought herself squarely down to land on it, legs locked around the thick neck.

“Now let’s see how well you like a bit of payback!” she yelled, and began to hammer at its face with her sword, laughing, sending flashes and sparks up from the repeated impacts. Though the droid thrashed and flailed, the injury to its right arm prevented it from raising it high enough to grab her. She shifted away from another blow and stabbed it in one of its optical sensors, extinguishing the Jewel Seed’s light there.

_‘Mei! Get off there, it’s dangerous!’_

Regardless of her teammate’s fears for her safety, she was having quite an effect on the ape-droid. Its mad thrashing as her sword struck its face-plate again and again was driving it back into the middle of the shaft, and it was almost blind from one side. Nanoha’s carefully placed shots and the occasional barb of purple were directing it still further from the tunnel, towards a larger mass of floating debris that was festooned with pipes and conduits – and, Nanoha realised, generating quite a lot of sparks from the frayed electrical cables stemming from somewhere in its depths.

The green-haired girl was thrown clear with a horrible cracking sound as the pair slammed into the hulk, even as turquoise magic glimmered around it. Nanoha swooped down to catch her, pulling her away as it became tangled in the mess of wires and piping. The fine mist of oil around it suddenly caught light, burning fiercely and obscuring it from view as another lurch shook the shaft and the invisible hands of gravity tugged briefly on them once more.

The ape-thing screamed as it began to fall, clawing and ripping at the conduits and cables that entangled it. The violent frenzy wrenched several of the pipes from their moorings, a fine misty spray pumping out of the torn ducting.

And with a ‘woomph’ of force and blistering heat, the area around it went up in a fireball that engulfed the two girls pulling up and away and was felt even through their Barrier Jackets. Even as the indistinct form wreathed in flame screeched and hollered, the gravity came back on in full and the heavy engine pod dropped like a stone, bearing its screaming passenger down into the murky depths of the hangar bay. A crash and an explosion echoed faintly through the darkness as it smashed into other falling objects, fading away into the distance until nothing more could be heard.

…

Liquid metal bubbled out of shattered containers of adamant glass, pooling on the floor and floating through the air in globular bubbles. Great angular slabs of machinery screeched and piped and clanged behind the grinding, shifting walls that partitioned them. Mist and smoke flooded the corridors, filling some to the very ceiling and rendering visibility all but zero. The Garden had truly become a place of chaos and madness as ancient systems were reactivated by the surge of power from the Jewel Seeds at its heart.

It was strange, Yuuno thought in an abstract daze as he ran through the frenzied tunnels. Once all of this was over, he would be mourning the lost knowledge for months, maybe even years. But here in the moment, the destruction and mayhem had faded almost to a background detail. And that wasn’t all that had been cast aside in the face of the clear and present threat.

He looked to his right, where the wolf he had so recently been fighting against loped beside him. Chrono and Fate were ahead of them, glowing silhouettes in the smoke under his Barrier Jacket’s infrared filter, clearing the path with electric bullets and blue missiles that cut down or knocked aside anything that tried to impede them. Chrono had a scout spell running ahead of them, to give advance warning of anything too big to get past, but so far they had only been forced to change route twice, to avoid an inferno in the lower levels and something huge in a chamber where the lights had failed. Chrono hadn’t been able to make out any details of the thing, but he had opted to avoid it anyway.

 _‘ Arf,’_ Yuuno started, and then paused, unsure of how to continue. Arf tilted her head, one dark blue eye glancing up to look at him, and he searched for a way to continue. After several seconds of thought brought nothing to mind, he gave up and made do with the first thing that came to mind.

 _‘Is Nanoha-’_ He cut himself off. Happy? Safe? In this? After having to leave her family behind? _‘Does she-’_ Another pause. Have regrets? Hold any grudges against him? He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know the answer to the latter, and neither was what he really wanted to know. He struggled to find the words to put around his question.

 _‘How can I help her?’_ he eventually asked, helplessly. To her credit, Arf didn’t immediately give any of the obvious responses, understanding the context of what he was saying. She kept running at that easy lope, matching his pace effortlessly. He was still a little taken aback with how _big_ she was, her head level with his chest even when he was a human. Everything was bigger when he was a ferret, it was only in his human form, so close to her, that he could appreciate the sheer, terrifying scale of a familiar’s War Form.

After a few moments of thought, Arf seemed to come to some conclusion. _‘She misses her family. More than she lets on, I think. If… if something happens, then if you could promise to go and tell them… tell them what actually happened, everything, so that they knew…’_

 _‘Of course.’_ Yuuno promised. _‘Though I hope you don’t mind if I hope she can be there explaining it with me.’_

The corner of Arf’s lip curled up in a wolfen smirk. _‘Right now? I can agree with anything that involves us all getting out of this alive, ferret-boy.’_

Any further conversation was rendered void, though, as they almost ran into Fate and Chrono from behind. The pair had stopped, and Chrono had his eyes shut and a furrowed brow.

“Is something wrong?” asked Yuuno. If they had to make another diversion…

“I’m not sure. We’re about to hit a big chamber, but there’s too much smoke in the air from the corridor, and I think something in the chamber is interfering with the scout. I don’t _think_ there’s anything inside, but I’m not too happy about going in there without advance warning of what we’ll find.”

 _‘Can we afford not to?’_ asked Arf. _‘I mean, we need to get off this place soon, it’s breaking apart.’_ As if to demonstrate her words, there was a violent lurch as the floor dropped away from them momentarily, before the gravity reasserted itself and they fell back to the ground.

“Urgh!” Chrono came down hard, but got a flight spell up fast enough to mitigate most of the impact. “Okay, okay, I see your point. If the gravity is starting to shut down, the station doesn’t have long.”

The corridor came to an end in a huge open space where the smoke thinned out a little, though not enough that it wasn’t hard to see at ground level. The roof arched up and away in a huge dome that must have been at least a hundred metres across, speckled with points of light like stars in the night sky, which moved and swirled in patterns that occasionally converged to form glyphs before breaking apart again. And in the centre of the observatory, if that was what it was…

 _‘Oh, hell,’_ Arf groaned. _‘What in the name of the Galean kings is_ that? _’_

Yuuno had to agree with her sentiment as it rose up off the floor. What it had been before the Jewel Seed had warped it, he had no idea. Now, it resembled something between a snake and a scorpion’s tail, a hooded mechanical stinger rising from a wide base in the centre of the room and forming an imposing, predatory silhouette against the smoke and fog. Even as they watched, though, it began to uncurl from its rest position. Lights blinked on along its length, and a row of panels opened near the end like the flared hood of a cobra.

“It must have been shut down – no heat signature,” said Chrono quickly. “What kind of reach…” he cut himself off as the turret angled towards them. “Scatter!”

They scattered, just in time for a beam of light the width of Yuuno’s fist to erupt from the tip of the jointed mechanical thing and pass through where they had been standing. The ground where it struck flared, and violet flames leapt up from the point of impact, blocking off the tunnel they had come through.

“Testarossa, distract it!” yelled Chrono, “I’ll try to shoot it down! Scyra, Arf, try to bind it to…” He cut off again, dancing back from another shot that set a section of the wall alight and snapping out a trio of blades that cut into the joints and intersections of the thing. It had little to no effect on its movements, but it certainly caught its attention. Streak after streak of white-violet light lanced towards the young Enforcer, sparking vivid, unnatural fires where they struck that released clouds of thick, acrid smoke. He coughed, veering away from it as his Barrier Jacket rippled.

[Adjusting for atmospheric shift,] his Device chimed, and he hurled a warning at the others as he kept circling it. _‘Stay clear of the smoke! I think it’s toxic… whatever it is, it’s not good!’_

Fate took to the air in a blur of motion, hitting the cobra-thing just under the flared panels that formed its hood with a ring of metal on metal. The light building up on the surface of the hood stuttered and flared out in jets of concentrated mana that scorched the floor and set several parts of the turret itself on fire. It swung towards her and she darted away out of reach, even as more blue bolts rained down on it from Chrono’s fast-moving form.

But Yuuno could already see that it was going to take too long. Far, far too long. Fate wasn’t going to be able to distract the thing enough, and they didn’t have enough time to take it apart the hard way. And as long as that gun was still working, they couldn’t chance fleeing for one of the tunnels. There had to be a faster way…

A glimmer of an idea formed. _‘Chrono!’_ he shouted. _‘Can you just punch holes in the casing and get binds inside its armour? Anchor it to the ground with something that conducts!’_

The other boy didn’t respond, but he changed tactics, his shots becoming thinner and more concentrated. He didn’t question the request either, trusting that Yuuno had a reason.

 _‘Arf! Can you try to take out that beam cannon?’_ Yuuno called. He was already casting, equations flashing through his mind and his Device as a circle formed underneath him. Dimly, he noticed Arf bound forwards towards the turret. Slots opened down its back and bolts of violet light shot towards her. Perhaps it was a defence after all? She twisted around them gracefully, and then she leapt, far further than any natural animal could, high into the air.

Fate had seen it coming, and streaked round in a curving turn barely above the floor on the opposite side of the turret to Arf’s approach. It followed her with a white beam that sliced through the floor cleanly and trailed white smoke behind it; never quite catching up to the black and gold form it was aiming at. It continued to track her even as she twisted upwards, uncurling to rise to its full height with the cannon on its tip pointed almost straight up after her.

Arf hit it from behind jaws-first, and sank her teeth a full centimetre into the metal with the force of her impact. Bracing her front paws on the metal panels of the hood, her neck muscles bulged as she twisted and _wrenched_ …

The beam cannon, with two torn strips of the cobra-hood still attached to it, landed on the floor with a crash. The scorpion-tail turret reacted violently to the sudden loss, twisting and thrashing. Losing her grip on it, Arf was flung away from it, bouncing off the floor and skidding into a wall. She clawed her way back to her feet as Fate called out for her in shock.

_‘Arf!’_

She arrowed towards her familiar, but was blocked by the thrashing turret and forced to the ground to avoid its wild swings. The panels that had opened to fire at Arf reoriented, and peppered her with lower-calibre fire. Fate swung Bardiche into position and threw up a shield to keep them off her, but the smoke began to build up, and her mono-directional shield did nothing to stop it curling towards her. Yuuno bit his lip. This close to finishing the spell, he couldn’t interrupt his casting to go and help her, but with Arf on the other side of the chamber…

And then salvation came in the form of a dark-clad Enforcer. _‘Scrya!’_ Chrono ordered, _‘Whatever you’re going to do, get ready to do it!’_

Blue wires sprang out from him as he gave a shout of effort. They flashed out, intent and purposeful, aiming for the holes that his shots had punched in the turret, small enough that it had ignored them. They wound around the serpentine form, snared panels and threaded through the segmented sections. The thing’s movements slowed dramatically as it thrashed and struggled to get loose, but it kept up the assault on Fate. There was a line of fire behind her, preventing her from retreating, and the smoke around her was getting thicker.

 _‘Get clear!’_ Yuuno shouted. He took a deep breath, centred himself as best he could, and pushed the spell outwards. The turret, intent on freeing itself from the bindings and getting through the circle of blazing gold between it and its target, didn’t appear to notice as green casting circles spread across both the floor beneath it and the ceiling above. Even if it had, it probably didn’t have the intelligence or the autonomy to wonder what it was for, or why it wasn’t centred on Yuuno.

Arf and Chrono, however, were very much aware of them, and backed away as they spread to cover almost the entire chamber. But Fate charged forwards again, taking advantage of its hampered movements to bring Bardiche up and around in a vertical slash that opened the thing’s body almost from base to tip. Yuuno’s eyes were closed, and his grip on his Device was white-knuckled, leaving him oblivious to her position. Arf mentally jolted against him, alerting him to it.

_‘Hey. What are you doing? Fate is still right there!’_

“What?” His eyes opened, and widened as he saw Fate still well within the area of effect. Calling back as much power from the spell as he could, he gritted his teeth as the remainder, too far gone to suppress, broke loose from his control.

Green lighting exploded from the ground, crackling like a living thing as it lanced upwards. It skittered and arced over the brassy surfaces of the turret, leaving streaks of charred material in its wake and forming eerie coronas of viridian on the sharp points before continuing its journey upwards. That didn’t stop it, though the hail of fire abruptly stopped, and several of the panels twitched open and shut in uncontrolled jerks, their shielding damaged by impact or attack.

But while the electricity that crawled over its armour didn’t harm the turret, it wasn’t meant to. Now the reason for Yuuno’s request of Chrono was made clear, as the wires binding it to the ground carried the current from his spell back up into its internal systems. Sparks flew and emerald lightning seared the air as the massive construction spasmed and shook, fried from the inside by the cruel electric current. It jerked upwards, the current forcing it as straight as it could go, and one by one its segments shattered in explosions of metal and crystal shards. Fate was barely visible in the localised storm, suspended in midair with half a dozen bolts crawling over her skin on their way up to the ceiling. Yuuno shut it down as soon as he could, equalising the remaining charges before throwing up a barrier just in case.

He needn’t have bothered. Like a felled tree, the machine dropped to the ground in a cacophony of crashing metal and dying circuitry. The acrid tang of overheated metal filled the air as more of the thick, choking white smoke began to wind out of several segments. Flames licked at others from within, from components that had caught fire from the electricity channelled through them. The floor and ceiling were charred black by the miniature thunderstorm, and several chunks of the latter fell, cracked or dislodged by the superheating that had come from repeated bolts of lightning.

The sole standing figure in the middle of the destruction touched down gently, lowered her scythe and turned to Yuuno with a strange expression. After a couple of seconds of silence, and with a slightly suspicious edge, she spoke.

“So,” she asked, “just to be sure, you knew that wouldn’t hurt me, right?”

A low growl from Arf added a graphical illustration of what would happen if the answer was ‘no’.

“… yes,” Yuuno said, after a brief pause. It was even true, mostly. He took in her dubious expression and scowled. “Stop looking at me like that! You weren’t even meant to be inside its range! And of course I knew! You use electric effects in half of your attacks, and Kaisers know I spent long enough looking at the electrical burns on Nanoha's back from your favoured shooting spells! It wasn’t exactly hard to work out that you have a lightning affinity!” And since he’d been right, there was no point in mentioning the very slight possibility that he might have been mistaken. “And your Intelligent Device has an autoguard function anyway, like Nanoha’s. And,” he added, “I did shunt as much as I could away from you. But I knew for a fact – because I am the expert here – that modern protective barriers are far better than these things could have had.”

Fate considered this, and shrugged acquiescence. “Alright. Though… how did you even do that, anyway?”

“Oh, yes.” Yuuno rolled his eyes. “Because clearly, no-one else can use electrical spells. Kaisers save us from people who think that just because you don't have an _affinity_ , you can't do it at all.”

They glared at each other for a moment. But before the aura of hostility could build up, their attention was violently distracted. An explosion from above them made the entire Garden shake, as if a ship’s main gun had gone off inside the structure itself. Another followed it, and the roof of the corridor fractured as cracks spread through it. The quartet exchanged uneasy glances.

 _‘We should get going again,’_ said Arf, breaking the short silence. _‘This way.’_ She began to lead off, but then paused, her ears pricked and the fur along her back bristling.

Then she howled, leaping across the chamber to all but tackle Fate from the air. The speed of it surprised even the girl herself. An orange shield shimmered into being behind them, and Yuuno threw one up himself.

It was just in time. For a split-second, he was blinded by the light that exploded into existence at the centre of the room. Then his Barrier Jacket’s safeguards kicked in properly, reducing the source to something he could see. It was a beam of light, a spell of some kind, finger-thin and yet bearing enough power to punch clean through the stone-metal substance of the Garden as if it were nothing. For a moment he wondered why Arf had tackled Fate out of the way – the beam had come through the roof at an angle, but not that close to where Fate had been.

Then he saw the fur on her back charring, and the wave of superheated air hit him. Even through a shield and his Barrier Jacket, he flinched. The beam itself must have been hot enough to vaporise lead. What in the world could produce an attack of so much concentrated power?

Oh. Of course. He answered his own question almost before he finished asking it, kicking himself for not realising sooner. Even with the anti-flash properties of his Barrier Jacket dimming it, the light was too bright to make out a colour, but he knew what it would be if he could see it.

The beam faded, and Chrono stepped out from behind the pillar he had dived behind. He was breathing hard, and when he spoke, it was in the flat, level tones of someone suppressing a panic attack. “What _was_ that?”

“Mother.” Fate’s voice was just as devoid of emotion, but the shakiness to it and the tremble to her hands as she checked Arf’s back gave her away. “Arf, you’re hurt, you shouldn’t have…”

 _‘I heal faster than you do, and I’m tougher, too. And we need you more.’_ Arf cut her off. _‘And you’re right, that was Precia. We need to get up there, the sooner the better. You can worry about me later, it’s just a surface burn.’_

Fate nodded reluctantly. “If you’re sure. And you’re right, we do need to get to Mother.” Her lips thinned again, and she glanced upwards. “I just hope she’s okay when we get there.”

…

Arms locked under the swordswoman’s shoulders, Nanoha rose up and over to the tunnel where the rest of the team waited, and set her down gently on the ground.

“… who lit it on fire?” she asked curiously. “It went up like a firework, all at once.”

“Uh, that was me.” The dark-haired healer raised her hand shyly. “I was trying to distract it… there’s still a bit of oxygen in the atmosphere, so I used a medical spell that concentrates it in an area. It’s meant for when somebody is having trouble breathing, but I thought it would work to… um… give the oil something to burn with. I’m not sure why it went up in a fireball like that, though.”

“It was tearing the piping around it,” her green-haired comrade pointed out weakly. “And I think that chunk of metal it got tangled in was part of an engine pod. That stuff that sprayed out? Might have been an accelerant or something.” She blinked, turning to Nanoha. “Oh yeah, um… thanks for the assist there. Catching me and all.” She winced and gingerly touched her ribcage. “I… uh… think I broke something, though. Or somethings. Oh! Speaking of, is Tiida…”

“He’s alive,” Heidi reassured her. “Not in good condition, but that blow didn’t kill him. He’s unconscious, though. Rizu thinks he may be bleeding internally.”

“Mei’s ribs are badly bruised, too,” added the healer, a glowing hand held over her sister’s chest. There was no trace of her ordinary stutter. “We need to get out of here. Fast. If we can just get out into the open, the ships can pick us up.”

 _‘We passed a way out!’_ Vesta spoke up eagerly. _‘Well, actually more like a weak point in the side of the Garden where your ships were shooting it, but you can get out that way if we open it up a bit. It’s just up the shaft a bit, maybe a minute’s flight away.’_

Heidi raised an eyebrow. “In case you’d forgotten, we’re not all A-rankers,” she pointed out acerbically. “ _Some_ of us still can’t fly.”

Nanoha blinked. “… really?” she asked. “Huh. I guess you’re right, yeah.” She hadn’t thought of that until now. Not being able to fly was terrible. “That’s a shame. Flying is really fun. I hope you learn soon! And… um… until then…” she bit her lip. “I guess I’ll carry you,” she decided.

“…” said Heidi. “Uh, no offence, but how? You’re the only one who can fly, the three of us are ground mages and Tiida’s unconscious. And even if you could carry all of us– which I doubt – we couldn’t all hold onto you if we tried.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean carry like that!” Nanoha shook her head. “We can… hmm. Raising Heart? I’ll need your help with this, okay?”

[We can do it!] replied the modulated tones of her Device. The mages looked a little unnerved at that, she noticed. Yuuno had mentioned that Raising Heart was advanced, but she hadn’t realised what that meant to… well, ‘normal’ mages.

She swung the staff round with the ease and familiarity of long use, and gestured at the empty space where the corridor ended. Pink light spun itself into a flat plane – a barrier, shimmering and solid. “Hop on!” she invited them cheerfully. Her Flier Fins activated, and she rose a little into the air herself.

The three ground-bound members of the backup team looked at the offered platform with no small amount of trepidation. Even Mei looked uncertain.

“Um,” said Rizu. “I’m… not sure that’s safe. Mei tried that a few weeks ago, and it didn’t work then.”

“Huh? No, no, it should hold you all,” Nanoha reassured her. “I did all the maths right, and… well, maybe if you weigh a _lot_ more than my guess, but I left a big margin of error in there to be safe.” She looked up at Heidi. “You’re really, really tall,” she added. “Taller than a man, so I guessed and used my dad’s weight and then added some more on.”

“Okay, okay. How about you bring it over the floor, and we make sure you really can support them all before trying it?” offered Heidi. On the one hand, she was fairly sure that was overestimating herself. On the other hand, this _was_ the nine-year old kid who had successfully escaped from the elite team. Twice. And... she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that comment about her weight, even if it was true.

The disk of pink light moved over into the tunnel, and Heidi stepped up onto it, carefully testing its ability to support her weight before letting her other foot leave the ground. It felt like stepping onto a slightly raised platform, as strong and solid as the floor. Rizu was next, lifting Tiida with her as gently as she could and resting him in the middle of the hovering platform. Mei sat down on the side without hesitation, her legs dangling over the edge.

The barrier-platform didn’t so much as wobble. Nanoha smiled happily. “Okay then! I’ll hover you up to the way out, and… hmm.” She glanced at Tiida. “Maybe find one of those old ships that still has an air-pocket in it for you to go out in? It might be safer, and I can give you a push.”

“Thank you for your help,” Rizu said softly. “Will you come with us?”

“What? No, I can’t!” Nanoha protested. “I’m sorry, but I need to go and help Precia-san. She’s being attacked.” The platform rose into the air and slid out into the empty space of the hangar, as steady as a rock. “I can only take you as far as the way out, then I have to go help her.”

“I didn’t mean for us, Takamachi-san,” Rizu corrected her. “I meant for you. P-Precia is putting a great many people in d-danger, and you have not yet done anything t-too bad. When we say how you helped us, that should make things even b-better for you.” Heidi seemed about to say something, but a subtle and vicious jab to the shin from Mei stopped her. The younger girl glared up at her and shook her head minutely.

 _‘Let Rizu do her thing,’_ she whispered. _‘If anyone can get through to the girl, she can.’_

_‘Are you sure?’_

Mei shot her an exasperated look. _‘Heidi, she dealt with me. As a kid.’_

_‘… point.’_

Turning their attention back to the conversation being voiced, Nanoha was looking uncertain. “I know… I _know_ it could hurt people, yes. That’s… been shown to me.” Something flickered in her eyes, something guilty and hurt and ashamed. Rizu held out a hand, and Nanoha drifted closer without thinking, allowing the older girl to softly squeeze her free hand.

“But!” Nanoha went on, recovering a little and smiling gratefully at Rizu for the comfort, “we’re being really careful not to, and we’re doing it for a good cause! And Precia-san can definitely control the Jewel Seeds, so it’s for the best overall!”

“Even if it ends in people being killed?” Rizu’s tone was sympathetic and her face was calm, but the question cut like a knife, and Nanoha flinched.

“No!” she objected in shock, “No, not at all! It's wrong for us to kill _anyone_ with what we do! Even in self-defence! I mean, it's wrong anyway, but it's... like, double-wrong here! Because if we succeed without killing people, that means we've saved lives on the whole, because Alicia will be better! But even one death means that it's neutral, and then there's the way that that'll make their family unhappy and... and I know how terrible that is!”

Heidi stared at her. This AA-ranked mage who had thrown around her entire team in the past was using logic she would expect to hear from... well, from a child. But then, she _was_ a child, wasn’t she? It was disconcerting, to put it mildly. Part of Heidi wanted to grab the girl by the arms and _shake_ some sense into her. But another part – the same part that stopped her from directing her caustic barbs at Rizu – saw the wounded look in the girl’s eyes and suppressed the urge.

Whatever naïve innocence had sparked that attitude, it had already been broken. She knew – Heidi could see it – she _knew_ that the world didn’t always work like that, the kind of knowledge that came from personal experience. And yet she was trying anyway, determined to prevent a catastrophe by sheer willpower and effort. Heidi shivered. A look like that, the half-hidden hurt and guilt and _age_ , did not belong in the eyes of a nine-year old. Freakish powers, unnatural strength, older than her years and yet still trying to be hopeful… who was this girl?

Her train of thought switched tracks with a nasty lurch as the barrier beneath her feet faltered for a second, becoming unsteady as if it had been replaced by sand or loose soil. She wobbled, grabbing Rizu for balance as it restabilised and glaring at Nanoha.

“Hey!” she snapped. “Watch it! Pay…”

But Nanoha wasn’t paying attention to her. She was looking up, her face pale. “Vesta,” she whispered in fearful tones. “That wasn’t there when we came past, was it?”

Dread flooded through Heidi’s veins like ice-water as she followed the younger girl’s gaze upwards, to what had scared the little powerhouse so. She had a horrible feeling she already knew the answer, though.

She was right.

The shaft was breaking apart. Above them, stone slid over stone as a huge chunk of the Garden – Kaisers, it must have been at least half the size of one of the picket ships – broke off from the wall, knocked free by some titanic impact. Debris and rubble filled the air as the building-sized slab drifted loose, blocking the shaft off completely as it slammed into the opposite wall hard enough to crush its way into the rooms on the other side.

“No…” Heidi breathed. “Breaking loose… this large, inside the structure?” She closed her eyes in sorrow. “That’s it, then. This place has had it. We need to double back to get out, going past that thing is suicide.”

“Another way sounds good!” Mei agreed, her eyes wide and her grip tightening on her sword. But Nanoha shook her head.

“There’s no time. Can’t you feel the magic being thrown around down there?” She motioned downwards, towards the Garden’s core. “Precia is in trouble, and I need to get back there as soon as possible. This is the fastest way. The point I was talking about is just under where it broke loose from.” She looked at the slab nervously and her voice cracked a little. “A-and I… the rubble and stuff is mostly over o-on that side, right? S-so if we stay over here, we should be okay…”

“Are you crazy?” Heidi shrieked. “Some of those chunks are the size of cars! This place is falling apart, we need to find another way out!”

“It’s _because_ this place is falling apart that you need to take the fastest route out!” argued Nanoha. “And it’ll be fine as long as we keep away from it. And anyway…”

“We need to go the fast way,” said Rizu in a small voice. Heidi turned an incredulous stare on her, which she didn’t appear to notice. Her hands were resting on Tiida’s chest, glowing with turquoise light. Without looking up from her work, she explained herself. “I want to get Tiida to a medical bay as quickly as possible. He’s still bleeding, and I don’t know enough to stop it. He’s bleeding badly, too. I’m doing what I can, but if we go back down and try to find our way out another way, we might get lost or attacked or…”

She trailed off, and silence fell over the small group. Slowly, hugging the wall as far from the rift as possible, the platform began to rise again. Nanoha hovered closer to it, her Device almost touching the pink plane, and sweat beaded on her brow at the strain of holding it. The distant sounds of thunder and explosions faded away behind the rumble of the slab digging still further into the opposite wall, as if it sucked all the sound in the world into itself and regurgitated them as the sounds of breaking stone and crushing jolts.

“We’re nearly there,” Nanoha whispered softly. She pointed at a patch of the wall they were drawing close to, barely twenty metres below the point where open shaft became slowly moving ceiling. It was almost devoid of panels, and the rooms beyond were in ruins, with shattered walls and caved-in roofs.

“It’s not far to the outside from here, and the walls are already weak,” Nanoha explained. “Um. Vesta? Could you want to try and find something they can go out in, and I’ll get ready to cut a path for them?”

Shifting into her human form from where she had been curled in Nanoha’s hood, the catgirl nodded wordlessly and flew away, arrowing across the wall in the direction of a cluster of lorry-sized shapes anchored to the wall. The torn and broken metal moorings elsewhere on the wall suggested that they were survivors of what had once been a much more substantial fleet. Whether they had been lost to time or to the hungry abyss across the hangar from them was a question nobody could answer.

“Okay,” said Nanoha, trying to inject cheer into her voice. “This will be a bit trickier than normal because of… um, that.” She nodded backwards, trying not to look at it. “But there’s still a lot of ambient mana around because of the Jewel Seeds, and we don’t want it at full power anyway. So that sort of works out! And since it’s weaker, I can make it more focused!”

The words rang a warning bell in Heidi’s mind, and she started to object. “Wait a minute, are you…”

Too late. A casting array of ridiculous size formed around the younger girl, and a barrel of firing rings extended out in front of her to a length that would have been more appropriate to an artillery piece or a ship-mounted cannon. Power gathered around her – first a little, then more and more, gathering in strength and intensity as a sphere of pink mana formed around her. After several seconds of growth, the ruby-red core of the Device flashed with pink script almost lost against the glow of the magical sphere.

[Starlight Buster,] it pealed.

And the sphere erupted.

When Heidi’s vision and hearing came back online, the wall of the hangar was gone. The edges were still glowing white-hot and giving off little pinging noises as they cooled. A very roughly cylinder-shaped path had been seared out of the Garden to the open space outside, drifting rubble beyond the far edge bearing silent testament to the forces that had ripped them out of their places and thrown them out. Nanoha looked up nervously, but the blast seemed not to have affected the stability of the huge block above their heads.

 _‘Mistress! I’ve found something!’_ Vesta called. _‘No propulsion, and it’s… uh… kinda got dead people and junk and stuff in it. But it’s the only one with an intact seal. It should work as long as you give it a push.’_

Nanoha exchanged awkward looks with the backup team. “I… guess this is it, then,” she said, starting to move over to where Vesta was beckoning them. The craft she had found was about the size of a lorry, barely small enough to fit through the near end of the path that Nanoha had carved. A dainty thing of curves and coils and intricate carvings, Nanoha got the distinct impression that it hadn’t really been meant for harsh conditions. But the door to the pilot section at the sealed well enough, and they moved the backup team in without much difficulty.

She shuddered at what they had to take out first. Parched and blackened with time, the grinning corpse of one of the original inhabitants of the station had still been sitting at the controls. There were more in the other sections, dried out and charred from heat, still wearing the ornate robes and jewellery they had decorated themselves with while still alive. But there was no time to deal with any of them. The front section sealed shut with a hiss, and Nanoha eyed the mooring that anchored it to the side.

“… Vesta?”

Bloody claws scythed through the chains, and the ship sagged momentarily. Then Nanoha caught it in pink wings, and it rose again, borne by an adapted version of her own Flier Fins. She groaned with the effort of lifting the heavy ship so close to an i-space rift, still tired from the Starlight Breaker she had carved its exit route with. But the gravity was low, and the ship was lighter than its appearance suggested. It took only a moment for her to lift it to the hole.

 _‘Thank you, Takamachi-san,’_ said Rizu from within. _‘You didn’t have to help us, but you did it anyway. I’ll make sure to tell them that, no matter what happens.’_

The other two added their agreement, wordless pulses of gratitude tinged with worry. It was nice, Nanoha thought, to know that she had been right about the TSAB. They were good people, and she had even sort-of made friends with some of them. Maybe someday she would be able to be on friendly terms with them, once the current crisis had died down.

She paused for a moment at that last thought, watching them go with faraway eyes as Vesta nuzzled against her chin supportively. “I just hope Fate is okay too,” she murmured softly, feeling a pang of worry for her blonde-haired friend.

Then she turned back down towards the core of the Garden, and shot towards the distant thunder like an arrow from a bow.

…

Zest hurtled through the air, skimming along the vaulted ceiling as tongues of amethyst flame followed in his wake. Cutting downwards to avoid the conflagration, he was confronted with a crackling bolt of lightning that filled the air with the taste of ozone and generated static along the entire length of his spear.

A burst of speed took him backwards at an angle as his opponent momentarily turned her attention to Quint, zigzagging across the ceiling in rapid arcs that changed direction unpredictably to avoid the shooting spells homing in on her. Her Barrier Jacket was in Full Armour mode, banded Laminar plates covering her whole body. An eyeless helmet covered her head, showing her surroundings on HUDs. Zest’s own Jacket had manifested a solid visor – there was no point in having his eyes uncovered when it only forced the filters to engage constantly to stop him being blinded. It was fast becoming apparent that his assumption of taking down Precia quickly had been very, very far from the truth.

She stood at the centre of the wide chamber, her hair billowing in an unseen wind, ringed by Midchildan circles. She must have been using at least five that he could count, possibly more. Next to her lay the curled up form of a young girl, blonde-haired and waif-like. That in itself was another complication – not only was he having to hold back for fear of injuring the girl, but it looked like Precia had done something to the body of her daughter in the hopes of getting her back. And maybe succeeded.

Because while he hardly had the best point of view from which to judge, it looked an awful lot like the girl was _breathing_ ; the slow, shallow breaths of someone in a deep coma. More disturbing still was the violet light above her heart that slowly brightened and dimmed in time with the rise and fall of her chest.

What had Precia _done_ to the girl? Could she possibly have…

He had to terminate that line of thought as the woman turned her attention back to him. The spell she fired at him was, probably, a variant on the basic shooting spell. It was a little difficult to tell, because it split into two almost as soon as it left her hand, and then became four, eight, sixteen…

The expanding cone of crackling electric spheres swerved to follow his first rapid escape, and a deafening series of explosions went off as those that couldn’t turn fast enough struck the wall and detonated in flares of electric force. A plume of orange fire thinned them still further, but there were too many to hit all of them before they reached him. Corkscrewing towards a wall, Zest pulled up just before he hit it, flipping around to brace his legs against the burn-scarred surface. Looking back, he waited until the orbs had almost reached him before pushing off with a flash move.

The thunder above him as they struck the wall where he had been standing struck almost like a physical blow, painfully loud even through the muffling of his Barrier Jacket. He hit the ground and instantly launched himself into another flash move, vanishing in a blur barely a second before several tonnes of rubble blasted out of the wall crashed down where he had landed. He hurled a volley of orange javelins at Precia on the way up, and scowled as they were absorbed by a shield that sprang into being without her even turning to acknowledge the attack.

She had too much power; that was the problem. If it had just been her alone, he and Quint would have won this already. But drawing on the Jewel Seeds and riding the power surge they provided, the woman was a monster. She couldn’t keep it up – she _wasn’t_ keeping it up, he could already see her starting to tire as the strain of magic use took its toll. But until she hit her body’s limits, he couldn’t see any way to win, and he was uncomfortably aware that if she landed a solid blow on either of him or Quint with this much power, it would be the end of it for them instead of her. It had come down to a test of endurance and skill. The first to slip would lose.

He climbed steeply, seeking the safety of altitude. The floor wasn’t safe, and for more reasons than just Precia. Three i-space rifts broke the marbled surface, lurching iridescent tears to a realm from which there was no return. Close to the ground, their influence was enough to interfere with spells, even shut them down entirely. Including the flight spells that he and Quint were using. An ill-aimed dive to attack would kill them more assuredly than anything Precia could fire their way.

[Geschwungene Rakete,] his Device pulsed, and let fly a barrage of missiles that curved around in streaks of light to strike Precia from all directions. A shield blocked them even as she responded with a bolt of lightning, but Quint had already seized the opportunity, diving from the one side completely unprotected by an i-space rift. Silent and deadly, she shot down the blue path that rolled out ahead of her towards the still-visible shield… and then flickered and vanished even as the path continued on to strike the shield.

Zest grinned ferally. It only made sense that Precia’s strongest shield would be reserved for the side on which she stood the greatest chance of attack. Blurred with speed, Quint reappeared on the opposite side, a dark silhouette with an arm drawn back in readiness. Precia’s eyes widened in shock as she slammed a punch into the shield that shattered it in one blow.

But the force of the terrible blow had been bled out of it by the first shield. A second shield came into view as Quint hit it, layered beneath the first. It fractured, but even as it broke under the power of the punch that had struck it, it retaliated. A dozen lances of violet light grew from the planar surface and took Quint full in the chest, throwing her back like a rag-doll. A jolt of pure, icy fear gripped Zest’s chest as she bounced _over_ the i-space rift, but her momentum was sufficient to carry her over it, to come to a rest two or three bodylengths beyond it. Even Precia seemed startled by the near miss, lowering her hand from where it had been poised to counterattack.

Zest swooped down to his downed comrade, keeping a wary eye on Precia as he did so. Quint didn’t seem too badly hurt – she was moving, at least. The Full Armour Barrier Jacket she wore had probably saved her life, absorbing the majority of the impact. It couldn’t have been as powerful as the attacks that Precia was throwing around anyway; reactive shields could only store so much power to respond to a blow with. Even so, the banded plate armour was cracked and scorched, and he knew that at the very least, her entire side would be one livid bruise if they got out of this. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, he looked up to the woman on the other side of the rift. She was leaning on her staff and breathing heavily, her skin pasty white. But she didn’t look ready to fall yet. She waited, tense and alert but not overly aggressive, for him to make a move. Which was odd, he realised. She had most of what she wanted, why wasn’t she trying to get away? Was she waiting for the girls that had been helping her? It fit with how she had been fighting – pushing him and Quint back, holding them at bay, keeping them on the defensive but not making any serious effort to escape.

But if that was what she was doing, he couldn’t imagine that she would wait forever. There was a timer ticking down behind those eyes, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what would happen when it hit zero.

Whirling his spear as Quint dragged herself upright against the wall; Zest resumed the deadly game of attack and defence, determined to render the question moot.

…

Lotte licked bloodied lips, watching the imposing form across from her carefully. Several times already, the other familiar had tried to break off and go to her mistress’s aid. It was getting gradually harder to stop her from doing so. Lotte held the upper hand in skill, but Linith’s use of her War Form made up for a lot, and Lotte didn’t want to use her own except as a last resort. She was pretty sure she was still winning, but it was a closer match than she would have liked.

Linith stalked left slowly, and Lotte moved to cut her off, gritting her teeth as another bombardment spell went off behind her. What was taking Zest and Quint so long? Testarossa wasn’t supposed to have any specialisation in combat, it should have been simple to take her down, if not exactly easy. Instead, it sounded like they were waging a full-scale _war_ in there! And she was uncomfortably aware that some of the spells being fired were cutting clean through the Garden’s walls. If a misaimed one came this way… well, the woman _probably_ wouldn’t want to hit her own familiar. Hopefully.

It would still be nice if her temporary teammates hurried up, though.

Their fight had left the initial corridor some time ago, and was now in the remains of what had, moments before their arrival, probably been some sort of lab. It was in no state for research anymore, however. The walls were riddled with craters, and part of the ceiling near the far wall had collapsed. Two of the machines were broken shells still belching smoke, and there was a long scorched trail that crossed the floor and went halfway up the opposite wall before veering sharply to the right. Despite the destruction, neither combatant was ready to back down. They watched each other carefully, recovering from their latest exertion and waiting for the other to make a move.

It was Linith who broke the temporary standoff. A Midchildan circle appeared at her feet, and the scattered chunks of debris from both the lab equipment and the walls began to quiver. Lotte darted forward, intent on stopping whatever this latest trick was before it could be turned against her.

She was forced to backflip away again almost as soon as she started moving. Linith roared a challenge at her, and the debris and wreckage rose off the floor in a violent jerk. They flew from all over the room to surround her in a whirling, deadly orbit of jagged chunks of metal and masonry, some of them larger than Lotte’s head. She couldn’t quite see through the blizzard, but the snarl that followed sounded viciously amused.

“Aww, great,” she muttered, and yelped as a fist-sized component that looked like the bastard offspring of a cogwheel and a throwing star whirred out of the rubble tornado towards her. She flipped to the side easily, only to find the entire thing bearing down on her as Linith charged at her.

“Gah!” She dived to one side and rolled as the rubble flew out from its circular orbit around the great cat and _followed_ her, like a comet made up of a hundred fragments, a tail of smaller pieces following behind it. Chunks of wreckage battered the floor behind her as she shifted into cat form to present a smaller target and fled across the room. Robbed of their target, the impromptu projectiles quivered again for a moment, then shot back to resume their erratic orbit, surrounding the familiar directing them in a lethal shield of rubble.

Lotte shifted back to her human form and cast a mournful look at where her eskrima sticks had fallen. She was really beginning to regret causing so much damage to the surroundings. If she’d known that her opponent could animate things like this, she’d have been more careful.

Well, too late now. It looked like she was going to have to get serious to finish this, and maybe pull out a couple of things she’d rather have kept in reserve. She effortlessly slid out of the way of the projectiles Linith launched at her, ducking and twisting to avoid those that changed course in mid-flight. Even as she moved on instinct, her mind was a blur, putting together a rough plan of action. She would have to wait until Linith next charged at her…

The floor jolted, and a crack split the ceiling in half down the middle. Dust poured down from the fissure, forming a curtain between them, and Lotte exploited the opportunity for all it was worth.

“Sounds like your mistress isn’t doing so well!” she shouted cheerfully. “Tell you what, you surrender here and I’ll ask Zest not to hurt her too…”

As expected, the dust curtain exploded as the furious tigress charged at her, the whirlwind of debris revolving fast enough that it was almost a blur. Lotte snapped both hands up and cast, as strong as she could.

‘Wheel Protection!’

The shield sprang out from her hands, a mana whirlpool blasting forwards to meet the tornado of rubble and wreckage. The improvised defence was ripped apart as the rapidly spinning mana caught each piece and flung them off to the sides, peppering the walls and ceiling with bullet-like chunks of broken metal and stone and opening up a gap in Linith’s defences. Lotte took full advantage of it while it lasted, lashing a hand forwards and casting again. Even as she did, she noticed the involuntary flicker of Linith’s eyes to the right and turned to see, bringing a hand up instinctively.

She caught a brief flicker of movement in the corner of her eye, and then something hit her arm hard enough to knock her clear across the room. Only her Barrier Jacket prevented the impact from ripping the limb off entirely, and she reverted to cat form on instinct, curling up around the aching phantom pain that persisted even after leaving the affected body. That was almost certainly a broken arm, she thought through a haze of pain. The other cat-woman must have sent one of the chunks orbiting her round on a curving path to hit her from the side as she charged. Sneaky, planning even through her fury.

But Lotte had won this round. She looked up in triumph as the remaining rubble dropped to the ground. Linith staggered and reverted to human form, clawing at her throat, but it was no good. The bind that Lotte had placed there only tightened further to make up the difference. Choking, struggling for every breath of air, Linith’s fingers scrabbled at the ring of mana in a futile attempt at escape.

Shifting back to human form, wincing at the pain in her arm – yes, that was clearly broken – and cradling it gingerly, Lotte pushed herself to her feet with an effort and walked over to where her opponent was clawing at the ground. She’d be unconscious in a minute or so, and hopefully she’d shift back into her cat form when she passed out. Lotte didn’t fancy carrying her like this.

“Good fight,” she murmured. “Seriously. But not quite…”

 _‘Get_ away _from her! Raaaaargh!’_

Lotte threw herself backwards yet again, bitterly reflecting that she’d been doing far too much of that recently, and wincing yet again at how the movement jarred her arm. The grey-and-black tigress, a smaller mirror of the one she’d _just been fighting_ , landed where she’d been standing and left four parallel grooves in the floor. Blood-red light glittered around her paws and fangs, forming blades that looked uncomfortably sharp and powerful. Where the _hell_ had she come from?

 _‘You!’_ the newcomer roared, apparently almost beyond coherent speech in rage. A white-clad girl flew in from the direction she had come from… the hole in the ceiling, wonderful. And that was Takamachi, which meant that this must be her familiar. Lotte scowled as the girl made straight for Linith, and she felt her bind broken. She seriously doubted the older familiar was unconscious yet, and that meant this fight had just become a lot harder.

Vesta charged, roaring ferociously. But she wasn’t as canny as Linith, and she didn’t have a defence like the one her elder had been using. Lotte waited in an easy stance, and hopped backwards just before the young tigress got within range. As expected, she pounced.

Going airborne close to someone as good with binds and barriers as Lotte was all but asking for pain. In a blur of motion, Vesta was caught by a blue lasso that took her momentum and redirected it with vicious economy. The pounce that had started aimed at Lotte’s throat became an uncontrolled flight at twice her original speed that slammed her back the way she had come into the unforgiving pile of rubble that had once been part of the ceiling.

“Vesta!” Nanoha had Linith’s cat form gathered in her arms, and Lotte kicked herself for taking her eyes off the girl for even a second. It was too late, though. Vesta leapt towards her mistress, changing into her kitten form in midair and guiding her trajectory onto Nanoha’s shoulder, and from there into her hood. A flicker of pink around the girl’s ankles, and she vanished into a speed technique even as Lotte whipped a bind towards her. It caught nothing but air.

Muttering to herself, and feeling further from her normal perkiness than she had in a long, long time, Lotte cast a quick bind to secure her arm to her midsection – a clumsy hack, but the best she could do for now – and followed them.

…

Another tense standoff had developed.

Precia was tiring, that much was clear to all. She was still untouched, but her breathing was laboured, and a trickle of blood marred her ghost-pale chin. Nonetheless, the formidable web of magics around her was still holding, and she was not the only one running low on power. Quint took advantage of the momentary lull to cast a quick healing spell on her aching ribs. It was a quick and dirty patch job, but it would dull the pain and hopefully keep things from getting any worse.

The room had not fared so well as its inhabitants. The floor behind Precia was gone, collapsed into another i-space rift. The central island she stood on was connected to the rest of the room by three thick bridges of stone. Combined with the area directly above her, they were the only avenues along which they could attack her.

Even in her current state, doing so would be suicide. But if they held on a little longer, that would change. The hostile mage was weakening fast, and Quint could see Zest eying her barriers and shields. Soon enough, they would degrade to the point where the pair of them could break through.

A spark jumped between her gloves. She frowned. It was followed by another one, tiny arcs of static. She dropped into a ready combat stance instinctively, prepared for another lightning spell. But Precia didn’t seem to be the source. Indeed, she wasn’t doing anything at all, just watching them warily. And her eyes were flitting to the left…

The wall exploded, and a huge form tumbled out of the new hole and slammed down on the floor. It was half a combat drone – a huge one, that must have been at least twice her height when whole. It was missing its legs, and golden lightning crackled over a hole through its torso that she could fit her shoulders through if she cared to. It bounced once, twice, thrice across the floor before coming to a rest, and she looked up with a raised eyebrow. Two forms were framed in the hole it had made, both holding staffs. Harlaown and Scrya? Then where…

“Mother!”

Quint whipped around in disbelief. Sure enough, the Testarossa girl was standing next to her mother, hands already applying a healing spell to her chest. Her familiar prowled around them, adding her own orange barriers to the purple web. Quint let out a low whistle despite herself. She hadn’t even _seen_ the girl cross the distance. That kind of speed was incredible.

But then Precia straightened, a vitality restored that hadn’t been there for several minutes, and her appreciation turned to ashes. She was leaning a little on her daughter, still far from what could be called healthy, but she was no longer on her last legs. The two boys weren’t nearly enough to outweigh that advantage. The fight was lost, save for one option.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Zest slump slightly, even as he started readying a spell. She knew what he was going to do next. It was something she’d been hoping to avoid. Break the bridges holding up the island she was standing on. Doom her to fall into Imaginary Space, and her daughters with her. Regretting the necessity, she readied her own Revolver Knuckle. They would have to attack quickly, and in unison. As long as they could take out two of the supports, the last one should break on its own.

But before either of them could move to attack, the pink blur of a movement spell coalesced on the closest bridge. Nanoha stood facing them, a cat cradled in her arms, her familiar on her shoulder.

“Please,” she said in an exhausted voice, “stop.”

Her words did rather less to keep them from attacking than the line of attack spells that Precia readied behind her, but she didn’t seem to notice. “No more fighting, please,” she repeated, pleading. “There’s been enough of that for today already. Too much.” She set Linith down on the floor gently, and the sandy-furred cat brushed against her leg in thanks as she limped over to her mistress.

“Gonna have to do better than that, kid,” Lotte said as she landed, adding another link to the half-circle of TSAB mages around the smaller group. “We can’t just let you go through with this. Not with the risks that come with it.”

“Nanoha-san,” Precia said smoothly, ignoring her. “It is good to see you well. My preparations are finished.” A circle grew around her, expanding to cover most of the island. Above her, fourteen Jewel Seeds spun in a glowing ring. “The Jewel Seed activating in the Garden’s core is too far gone to suppress. Step back into the circle, and we will use its power to build the bridge to Alhazred, and Alicia’s salvation.” She threw a cool glance at the TSAB members. “Plunging it into Imaginary Space will direct the majority of its full activation down into the void. There will be tremors, but no cataclysm event. Step back, and we can leave at once.”

“Nanoha, no!” Yuuno stepped forward, arm stretched out to the girl on the narrow stone bridge. A web of purple magic pulsed behind her, stalemating them from making the slightest movement, and the kaleidoscopic void of Imaginary Space cast rippling colours over the white of her Barrier Jacket. “Nanoha,” he repeated, “don’t go with her. You heard her, she’s got everything she needs, you _don’t have to help her anymore_. Come with us. You’ve not done anything too bad, you’ll be let off lightly… _please_ , Nanoha! If you go with her now, you won’t be able to come back! You’ll be committing yourself; you can’t undo something like that!”

He searched her eyes, willing her to understand. “You wanted to help them save Alicia, and they can do that now. You’ve done enough, come back. See your family again. You’ve said it yourself, the TSAB are good people, join them if you want to help people more! Don’t throw your life away like this!”

“Yuuno-kun…” Nanoha hesitated, caught between two choices, two directions. She could tell that this was a turning point in her life, that the course she chose here would affect the rest of her life. “I…” Her family flashed through her mind – mama and papa, Kyouya and Miyuki, Arisa and Suzuka. She missed them desperately, wanted to see them again so much that it was a physical _ache_. But Yuuno thought that going with Precia would put her in danger, and that meant that if she stayed behind, _they_ would be in danger. And… and Precia was sick, dying. Who would look after Alicia when she was gone? “I don’t…”

And Fate spoke.

“Nanoha…” she whispered, barely loud enough to hear. “Please.” No more than that, no argument or rebuttal to Yuuno’s pleas, no case of her own. But the depth of emotion in those two words seemed to go on forever, and Nanoha couldn’t help but turn to look at her.

And for a timeless span of seconds, the world stopped turning.

…

“Please.”

In that frozen moment, suspended between breaths, it was like seeing her for the first time, all over again. Her blonde hair was escaping the ponytails she kept it in, tangled and smoke-stained from fighting through the tunnels on her way here. She held Bardiche loosely, worn and chipped but still serving its mistress as loyally as it had in that first fight a month or more ago. Her black Barrier Jacket and cape were torn and dirty from far too many near misses, and Nanoha could see blood on her from a multitude of shallow scrapes and gashes. Familiarity warred with fascination in Nanoha’s heart as she stood there, feeling as though she were transported back to the day they had met, when life was simple and before everything had got out of control.

Her gaze met Fate’s eyes, and she sank into them. There was pleading there, and apology. Affection and camaraderie, hope and determination. But most of all, there was trust. Trust in Nanoha, trust in her heart, trust in her judgement, trust in _her_ , as a person, to do what she thought was best. What seemed like hours of communication passed between them in an instant, and tears gathered in Nanoha’s eyes at the choice she had to make. It wasn’t _fair_ that she had to make it like this, with no time to consider, while she was tired and hurting and so desperately sad.

But the world wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t a choice. Not really. Not if she wanted to go on being her. It was hard, but her life had seemed like one long string of hardships lately. And as she turned back to Yuuno, it felt like she could feel her path unrolling in front of her, beneath her feet. It would take her away from him, she knew, and she wept freely for the loss of her first friend in the magical world as she looked at him, his face full of concern and caring for her.

But Alicia still needed her. Precia still needed her.

Fate still needed her.

“Yuuno-kun,” she whispered, and somehow her voice cut through the distant thunder of the Garden breaking up. “Yuuno-kun, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” A quiet sob escaped her, but she refused to break his gaze. “I wish things could have been different. Maybe… maybe in another life… but I can’t.” She started to turn back to Fate, but Yuuno’s voice halted her, urgent and frantic and desperate.

“Nanoha! If you go now… Nanoha, you might _die!_ I don’t want to lose you!”

“I know.” Her voice was soft, and her bangs hung down over her face to shadow her eyes. “Could… could you tell my family that I’m sorry? And that I love them, and… I hope I’ll see them again. And you too, Yuuno-kun. This isn’t the end, I promise.” She looked up at him, one last time, through tear-rimmed eyes. A tiny smile was on her face, a mix of bravery, apology and hope. “I’ll see you again someday, and make things right. I promise.”

And then she stepped backwards into the circle and took Fate’s hand in hers. Her lips moved, but her words were snatched away as the tone of the Jewel Seeds grew until it shook the walls, like a cosmic finger on the wine-glass of the universe. Yuuno got one last glimpse at her, still looking straight at him with tears trickling down her cheeks and an expression of resolve on her face. The light around her built and built until it resembled a miniature sun of purple magic and the Jewel Seed’s power.

“Evacuate!” yelled Quint. “Everyone out, move move move! Zest, cut us a path out of here, we need to go!”

Yuuno didn’t react, still staring wide-eyed at the orb of power as it grew to blinding levels. He barely noticed as Chrono roughly grabbed his hand, dragging him along with the retreating figures around them. There was movement, flight through the tunnel being carved before their eyes by a blazing orange spear, but it seemed far-away and unreal, like it wasn’t really happening. There was no memory, afterwards, of the crashing thunder as entire floors fell apart around them, as explosions lit the darkened scenes of chaos with painful hues, or of the wrenching jerk that plucked them from the outer borders of the Garden and deposited them on the bridge of the Asura. Only shock, grief, and a numb, hurt confusion that grew minute by minute into a tangled ache in his chest that eclipsed the gashes on his face and arms left by flying chips of rubble and steel.

Nanoha had chosen, and she hadn’t chosen him.

She was gone.

…

Seen from the outside, the Garden was more a cloud of rubble than the single structure it had been mere hours before. Pieces the size of ships were breaking off even as they watched, drifting slowly away from each other as explosions from within tore it apart still further. Deep within the heart of the cluster, a gleaming core of purple was visible – the spell that Precia was casting, still growing in power.

But it was not to be.

It may have been some tiny error in the casting, a single digit misplaced that sent a surge of power awry that no human could hope to contain. It may have been that the strain of her illness finally caught up to her, and she was unable to complete the spell. It may even have simply been that they ran out of time. Yuuno didn’t know, and couldn’t say. He could only watch.

In a soundless flash of light and fury, the Garden detonated. The screens on the Asura briefly dimmed to near-black as the purple radiance flashed as bright as a star. When they returned to normal, it was to display the vast chunks of masonry flying away from a twisting, shimmering, iridescent void.

Yuuno had seen a void like that before. But where the tear into Imaginary Space at the apartment had been small, and easily sealed, this one was large enough to swallow a ship. And it was growing, the rent in space splitting further open as the merely-metastable fabric of the artificial spacetime bubble tore.

“Get clear!” Lindy ordered. Over the comms, the sound of the other ships’ captains roaring similar orders were audible. “Retreat! Get us back into Dimensional Space! We need to get out of realspace!” She turned to the bridge officers. “Will it stop at the edge of the pocket?”

“It should!” came the reply. “The pressure of the Dimensional Sea should force it closed again once the pocket destabilises. But it’s going to cause a quake, and… admiral, it’s going to be _big_. Bigger than the one we got hit by last time!”

Lindy swore fluently. “We might just about be able to ride that out, but the smaller ships won’t.” She snatched up the intercom. “Pair up! We’ve got a quake coming, and we’re at ground zero! Smaller ships, group in with the larger ones! Link your shields together and keep close! We’ll have to rely on our shields to take the brunt of it!”

Bright light flared around the ships, forming sheltered areas of calm in the tempestuous froth that the Dimensional Sea was becoming. Trails of light and vortexes of spacetime whirled around the flaring shields as they strained under the forces battering them from all directions.

Behind them, as they fled, the coiling unlight of Imaginary Space spread from the explosion. Tendrils of it expanded out like tears from a punctured foil, growing and spreading out with terrible implacability. The wreckage of the Garden was drawn to the voids in space, sucked into the ever-hungry wounds and lost forever to their depths. With the loss of the ancient technology that maintained the sphere of realspace around the structure, the edges of the space began to fray and distort. And still the rents spread, budding and swelling until they had all but filled it.

And as the i-space rift consumed the last of the stable pocket of space, the boundaries collapsed entirely and the pocket imploded. The pressure of the Dimensional Sea pressed down on the open rift, forcing it closed and squashing it down into a singularity that lasted only a fraction of a second before closing entirely. For a brief, silent moment, all was calm.

Then the shockwave rippled out like a vast and unstoppable tsunami, sweeping aside anything in its path, and the floor dropped away as the Asura was engulfed in the storm.

…


	15. Epilogue

The door to the private conference room on the _Asura_ was shut, and multiple empty cups of tea denoted the passing of hours as well as any timer. Only one woman was in the sealed room, her uniform crumpled.

“… and well, if I am to be quite honest,” Flotilla Admiral Harlaown said, hands folded behind her back, “the Garden of Time was doomed from the moment that Miss Tachamachi decided to… uh. Well, we’re not exactly sure what she did, but given how the weapons systems of the Garden suddenly started being more accurate and seemed about to fire some kind of heavy weapon before something went wrong, we think she may have activated something built into it. Whether she aborted it, or it simply failed due to lack of maintenance, we’re not sure. But _something_ certainly happened which destabilised the Jewel Seed that they’d apparently plugged into the reactor.”

Admiral Graham sighed. “I understand that it was a priceless archaeological relic,” he said, with a hint of sorrow. “But nevertheless, there’s a bit of me that thinks this was perhaps the safest way. You said there appeared to be some form of animating construct intelligence?”

“Yes. I had Warrant Officer Alpine,” Lindy frowned slightly, “insist she have a look at the data after she found out, and she says it had all the characteristic markers of some kind of apex summons. But built into technology, rather than gene-locked.”

“Well, on a purely personal level,” the grey-haired man said, “that means I’m rather glad it’s gone. We don’t need more intelligent guardian systems of ancient technological horrors, thank you very much. And given that the dimensional quake was relatively minor, all things considered, yes; that could have gone much, much worse. I’ve talked with Admiral Nunes... the only vessel you lost was the picket ship _Sergei_ , correct?”

Lindy massaged her tired eyes. She had been awake for... for far too long. “Yes, correct. When the Garden started to collapse into i-space after Precia Testarossa began her final spell, I made the call to abandon recovery efforts. We’d already pulled it down to a skeleton crew after it took that crippling hit, so... I felt there was no way we could bring the core back up in time, so ordered all personnel and recovery teams transferred off.”

Admiral Graham shook his head. “There’s going to be an inquest, you know that,” he said, “there’s no way there couldn’t be. A priceless Alhazredian artefact lost to i-space, the Jewel Seeds lost too, the death of all suspects involved in the case – including a Earth-native who got caught up in the case. It’s a mess. But at least, from what you and Nunes have said, you can justify everything in the deployment, so... well, provisionally I’ll be standing behind you, at least until I can go over the full data records.”

“Thank you, Gil,” Lindy said, reaching out to check if she had any tea left in the nearest cup. She did not.

“It’s an honest opinion,” the man said. “Look, frankly, if only it was that easy to get rid of all Lost Logia by dumping them into i-space. The Jewel Seeds are better off gone, and good riddance to Precia Testarossa. A nasty piece of work, all things considered. I wish we could get rid of other things like that.”

The woman shook her head sadly. “So do I.”

He winced. “Sorry for bringing that up... it’s... it’s been on my mind a lot lately, with you involved in this case with a potential gigadeath scenario around my home planet.” He massaged the back of his neck. “Look, Lindy, go get some sleep and eat something. Man cannot live off hot sweet tea alone, even though sometimes things require it. And... thank you for not getting Lotte killed. Aria and I would be very unhappy if something had happened to her.”

Lindy snorted. “That really wasn’t anything to do with me,” she said. “It’s not like I had any contact with the Garden at that time. You should talk to Captain Grangeitz for a precise report of what happened inside that place.”

“And I have that scheduled.” Admiral Graham flapped his hands at her, like he was shooing ducklings. “Bed. Now. Get six hours rest.”

…

The windows in the medical bay were displaying the calm light-studded blackness of space, rather than the chaos of the dimensional sea which was what really lay outside. Despite that, Quint Nakajima still glanced out of it, as if it meant anything. It was a hard habit to break.

“Oh. Um. Hi, chief,” she heard a somewhat sheepish voice behind her. She turned to see a green-silver haired cadet, shuffling slightly.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Mei?” Quint said, taking in the hospital clothes and the rib-corset holding broken bones together.

“Hey, hey, you can’t get me there!” the girl protested. “I’m allowed to move around since they got this thing on me, as long as I don’t do anything big. Just like you.”

Quint winced slightly, one plastered hand going to her own rib-corset. That reactive field-blast had broken four ribs, torn tendons, and she’d broken several bones in her right hand from the punch. Yes, technically speaking she was rather more injured than Mei, but it was different. “I was looking for you,” she said, hastily, “but you weren’t in your bed. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got pinged with your message,” the girl said. “I wasn’t just wandering out of boredom. Well, mostly not. I was almost there to check up on Tiida before I got the message.” Her lips tightened. “He was in a pretty bad way, and… well… um…”

“Well...” the older woman paused, and started again. “Well, yes, then. Let’s go see him, and then we’ll have a talk.”

Together, the two of them set off down the clean, sterile white corridors of the medical bay, through the haze of bleeping and conversation. The place was nearly half-full; most of the worst injured had been moved to the superior medical facilities on Admiral Nunes’ flagship, but the _Asura_ was treating large numbers of walking wounded.

There were no small number of cases of mana and radiation sickness. The collapse of the bubble-reality the Garden had been in had irradiated the fleeing fleet as the reality-interface had clashed with the i-space collapse, throwing exotic particles in all directions. The ships’ shields had stopped the worst of it, but spalling off the inside of the magical protections took its toll.

However, when they got to Tiida’s room, they found the door closed, and voices coming from inside. Waving one hand, Quint gestured at Mei to be quiet, and they snuck up on the door. 

“Ha. Yes, Tea, big brother Tiida will be heading home, because he’s hurt all kinds of things, and so will have to stay at home for a few months at the very least,” they heard a voice say from inside the room. “Which means, yes, I will probably be able to go to your school play.”

“… you know what would make you feel better?” a younger voice said, unsubtle cunning oozing from every syllable. “Since you’re hurt and everything? A kitten!”

“Uh…”

“Because it’ll be all friendly and it will lick your nose and you can hug it even though you have bandages and Zaki has a kitten and it’s really cute but I said I would get one and mine would be black and I’d call her Midnight while hers is only a tabby and…”

“Tea, I’m not sure…”

“… and it’ll make you feel all better and then when you’re feeling better I can have it and keep it safe and,” there was a sniff and a sudden melancholy note to the little girl’s voice, “and it’ll stop me feeling lonely when you’re away and I won’t feel scared,” and like that, the melancholia vanished, “and then when I’m older I can make it my familiar and we can go flying together and she’ll be like a giant tiger and we’ll be all ‘graaaaagh’ and ‘raaaaaargh’ and bad criminals will be all ‘aaaaaaah’ and that way I can keep you safe from being hurt again so really really really it’s for _your_ sake that you should let me have a kitten.”

“I think he needs backup,” Quint whispered, grinning, before rapping on the door. A slightly desperate ‘Come in’ confirmed that the man would appreciate some help.

Tiida Lanster was lying in bed, looking rather heavily bruised. He was hooked up to machinery, which was bleeping periodically. Despite that, he was awake – although the look in his eyes suggested that he was on some kind of painkiller – and he went to wave at the intruders before a restraint around one arm stopped him. Curled up in a chair on the other side of the room was Rizu, fast asleep under a blanket.

Sisterly affection prevented Mei from pointing out that she was drooling onto the blanket.

“Hi. Oh. I think she’s just exhausted,” Tiida said, following Mei’s gaze. “I… uh, had a look over her mission log autosummaries, just to check, and she was running on fumes towards the end even more than I was. And then she had to stabilise me, apparently, when you took me in the yacht thing and... yes, the golem really did a number on me. Cracked my sternum and punctured a lung. Nearly drowned.” His eyes took in the state of the two women before him. “Looks like everyone’s getting broken ribs today,” he said, trying to inject some levity into things. “And...”

“Tiida,” the screen in front of him growled, “how _dare_ you ignore me! Introduce me to the people who you are talking to who I can’t see... oh, hi Mei! And... uh, hi, purple-haired lady!” the somewhat grubby child on the screen said, perking up as soon as the display swung around.

“Oh, I have another daughter,” the darker-skinned woman sitting behind Teana said. “Nice of you to... Mei. What did you break this time?”

“Um. Hi Mum. Uh. Nothing much, really! Hardly anything! Like... less than that time I fell through the roof, or the time I was hit by the car, or that time I wanted to see what shooting myself with my own training shots would be like or... I’ll stop talking.” She took a deep breath. “It’s nothing much, really. Really really. It’s just one cracked rib... not even a total break! It’s mostly the bruising that hurts. And...” she coughed, and winced.

“Hmm.” It was a very deliberate noise. “I’ll talk to you later. Come on, Tea, I think your brother needs his rest and he’ll be able to talk to you later.”

“But what about my kitten?” Teana managed to get out before the connection was cut. Tiida relaxed slightly, as did Mei.

Quint chuckled. “It’s amazing Rizu’s sleeping through this. She must really be exhausted.” She smiled faintly. “You’ll have to thank her after this,” she remarked casually.

“I really will.”

“So, what’s this about kittens?” Mei interrupted with a smirk. “Haven’t you had enough of cats?”

Tiida chuckled weakly. “I think I’ve had about enough of feline familiars these past few weeks,” he said, shaking his head. “I might stretch to letting her have a hamster, for her to prove that she can look after things responsibly. Or maybe a pygmy capybara. They’re meant to be easier than rabbits, right?”

“Oh no,” Quint said, shaking her head, “they’re social animals. You don’t want to have them living alone; that’s cruel. They need friends.” She glanced around. “What? Can’t I know these kinds of things? I was a little girl too! And… ow, ow, ow, I shouldn’t raise my voice.” She coughed, and clutched her side. “Word to the wise,” she said to Mei next to her, “first sign that you’re getting old is when things start both hurting more and taking longer to heal. I’ve lost count of how many broken ribs I’ve had; it’s something to do with how barrier jackets distribute force.”

“Oh, like I said, I only fractured one rib and bruised a few others,” Mei said with a shrug which produced a wince. “I’ve had worse.”

“And on that subject, I feel we may need to expand the talk I was going to give you to include jumping on giant robots, and why it’s a bad idea. In fact, more generally on self-preservation,” Quint said clinically, before returning to her original point. “But, seriously, it’d be cruel to get only a single dwarf capybara. Hamsters are easy, and short-lived.”

“Well. Um, I’ll bear that in mind,” Tiida said, before looking slightly awkward. “Listen, I realise... uh, could we not talk now? I’m... um, feeling already rather tired from being talked at by Tea and I think I just want to sleep.”

Quint took Mei by the shoulders. “That’s fine,” she told Tiida firmly, as she guided the girl out. “Rest all you can. And...”

“Do... do you know what happened to Nanoha Tachimachi?” Tiida asked, slurring slightly. “She saved us, Rizu said last time I was awake, but she was vague... or maybe I’m forgetting what Rizu said.”

“There’s no sign of her,” the older woman said. “We can talk in formal debriefing after you’ve rested.”

The door closed behind them, and both women breathed a sigh of relief, then winced from the pain of bruised and broken ribs. “Well,” Quint said, after a moment. “Come on. We might as well get started our reports while you and I have that talk. Those talks, even.”

“Aww. _Paperwork_ ,” Mei whined. She caught the glance from Quint. “I mean... uh. Yay! Paperwork! My... uh, favourite thing.” She paused. “I wonder how much of it I can fob off onto Heidi by playing up my injury?”

“I don’t think you need me to tell you how much of a terrible attitude that is,” the older woman said severely, and then grinned. “Probably about as much as I can hand over to Zest. Stupid Megane and her not-being-there; she’s usually good for lightening the work load. Especially if you sit prominently in the mess hall, sigh, and when she comes over to stare over your shoulder you make sure she can see a page with plenty of spelling mistakes.” She nudged Mei. “And if it gets too much, we can always watch a film, right? Because we are wounded, after all.” Pensively, she drew a breath, as she remembered something. “Although Tiida did raise something, even though he didn’t know it. I’ll need to talk with Yuuno at some point.”

…

The Asura’s cargo hauler bay was very, very cramped with the Alhazredian vessel in it. All the standard docking ports were completely incompatible with it, and in the end they had secured it as cargo. It was now covered in a thin layer of plastic, while green motes of light danced inside, visible through the holes in the ship.

Yuuno fiddled with his Device in both hands, and sighed. He was getting used to using a Storage Device again, but the staff reminded him too much of... of Raising Heart. It felt wrong in his hands. He would have to give it back to the admiral at some point, with his apologies.

Once again, his eyes drifted over to the scorched, damaged ship he was running sterilisation protocols on. It really was a beautiful thing, he thought blankly. Compared to the utilitarian curves of modern TSAB ships designed for... well, they were designed for a lot of things; he was an archaeologist, not a dimensional cruiser engineer... but this thing, even damaged, made the modern ships look like a child’s toy. This was artwork, each surface apparently designed more for its capacity to hold sculptures and engravings than for anything as base as transport.

And yet it was laughing at him. For in the midst of the beautiful architecture, every single priest-queen figure on the hull wore Nanoha’s face.

Yuuno sniffled, and wiped his eyes on his sleeves for what had to be the fiftieth time today.

“Hey, kiddo.”

The voice came from behind him, and he turned to find Quint leaning against the door to the bay. She was rubbing her ribs with a rueful look on her face, and sounded tired.

“… hi,” Yuuno replied dully, and turned back to the ship. He wasn’t in the mood to talk at the moment, and Quint seemed to sense it, because she didn’t react to the dismissal. He heard a faint grunt as she pushed off the wall, and footsteps as she walked over.

Instead of trying to start up a conversation again, though, she crouched down beside him and looked over the plastic-sealed ship, giving a low whistle of approval at its form. For a minute or so they sat in a silence that was, if not comfortable, then at least placid. Yuuno was the one to break it.

“It’s a real find,” he said, not really sure why. Quint’s presence wasn’t demanding, just accepting. The silence of the bay had been oppressive before she arrived. Now it was merely empty, inviting. It encouraged him to fill it with something, without any pressure or insistence. “The bodies in it, too. Dress, ornamentation – there’s some food, too. And a few degraded data records that should be interesting if we can get them translated. Maybe we can find out what the Garden was.” His lips twitched in a bitter smirk. “Any other day, I’d be overjoyed by a find like this. And upset only because of the loss of the Garden itself.”

“But not today,” Quint said softly. “Not with Na- with _her_ gone.”

“I just… can’t understand why she went,” he sighed. Except that was wrong. He could understand it all too well. Nanoha’s compassion, her drive to help people and protect them from harm, had always been one of her strongest qualities. It had been a driving force in her life throughout the time he’d known her, and it had led her to…

He cut off that line of thought, screwing his eyes shut tightly and taking deep breaths. Quint’s arm fell around his shoulders, and he pressed closer to the comforting warmth. The motion jarred her ribs, and she hissed in momentary pain, causing him to pull back apologetically.

“Sorry, I…”

“No, don’t worry. It’s fine.” She sighed. “I came down here because… well, partly to see how you were doing. But also to ask if you want to come with me.”

“Come with you?” Yuuno frowned. Was she going back to whatever mission she’d been on before the elite team had been called in to help with the Jewel Seeds? “Come with you where? And what do you need me for?”

She just looked at him, sadly. It hit him like a bolt from the blue a second later. Of course, Nanoha. Her family still didn’t…

“It’s fine if you don’t want to come,” she said quickly, reading his expression. “But you knew her, maybe better than anyone else did. I figured that I should at least give you the option of telling her parents what happened to her. And she asked for you, just before going. You’re not obliged to go, or anything – and if you think you can’t handle it, that’s no failing on your part and I’ll completely respect your decision to stay here. But I rather thought that you deserved to make the choice yourself instead of me just going alone.”

He nodded shakily, as Nanoha’s tear-stained face came back to him. He had a feeling he would be reliving that scene regularly in the nights to come. ‘Could you tell my family that I'm sorry?’ she had asked him. ‘That I love them, and I hope I'll see them again.’

Even if he had wanted to refuse a request like that, there was nothing in him that could have managed it. Blinking rapidly to hold back the tears, and with a lump in his throat that made it impossible to speak, he looked up at Quint and nodded mutely.

The trip down to the planet was familiar by now, but the knowledge that it would be the last in the foreseeable future made it strange. It felt different, too, the taste of magic in the air. The dimensional quake had hit the planet. It would probably not have been quite as hard as the first, despite being somewhat more powerful. The distance would have mitigated the strength of the ripple somewhat. But it would still have had an impact, Yuuno thought glumly. It wouldn’t have been at all comfortable for those unfortunates with magical talent.

Early afternoon was drawing in as they approached the house, and there seemed to be some activity inside. Quint knocked on the door thrice, and then stood back and waited. The faint sounds of conversation filtered in from inside.

“… _fine_ , Shiro, stop fussing! It was only a little fall anyway, it’s not as if…”

The door was yanked open to reveal Momoko, with a dressing on the side of her head. She seemed as startled as they were.

“Oh,” she began, and then her eyes flickered over their Jackets. “… oh. Hello?” She tilted her head, asking it more as a question than a greeting. “Can I… help you?” Her eyes strayed back to Yuuno, and she frowned slightly, searching his face as if recognising something half-remembered. He nodded respectfully to her.

“Yuuno Scrya, ma’am,” he introduced himself. She blinked.

“Yuuno… oh, of course. Nanoha said.” She appraised him again in light of the new information, intrigued despite herself. “How very…”

She trailed off at the grim look on his face, which Quint mirrored, and her face fell. “I get the feeling,” she murmured softly, “that you are not here with good news.”

“Momoko?” came a voice from behind her. Shiro appeared from one of the side-rooms, folding up a newspaper as he did. “Who- oh. You.” He tossed the newspaper back out of sight, and came to stand next to Momoko, his face grim. Quint nodded to him.

“Quint Nakajima, TSAB Warrant Officer,” she introduced herself, more for Momoko’s sake than Shiro’s. “Last night, Bureau forces raided the inter-dimensional fortress that Precia Testarossa was using as a base of operations. Your daughter was manning the defences. I can say that while she seriously damaged one of our ships by accident, no lives were lost, and when some sort of malfunction caused the internal defences to go berserk, she turned around and helped several of our people onboard get out, defending them at considerable risk to herself.”

Shiro put an arm around Momoko’s shoulder as she sniffed. His own eyes were a little wet as he nodded. “That’s Nanoha,” he confirmed.

“It seems that Testarossa was attempting to create some kind of bridge through Imaginary Space,” Quint continued. “That’s… uh… a place where magic doesn’t… can’t… work. I won’t bore you with the details, except to say that she stood no realistic chance of success. A stalemate had developed, and Nanoha was presented with a choice between surrendering to the TSAB or going with Precia.” She paused, biting her lip, but from their expressions it was clear that the couple had already deduced what came next. But Yuuno beat her to the punch.

“… she chose to go with them.” His voice was soft, and wavered slightly – enough that Quint half expected him to break down at any moment. “She knew it would be dangerous, and… and she wanted to make sure they would be safe. Wanted to protect them. I… I’m so, so sorry, Takamachi-san. I tried to stop her, tried to convince her not to go, I just…”

He broke off, dropping his gaze and looking like he was barely holding back tears. Momoko leaned into her husband’s shoulder, her breathing hitching slightly, and he wrapped his arms around her further. His jaw clenched, and he closed his eyes for a second before nodding at Quint to go on.

“Ah… yes. The structure was collapsing by that point, and we were forced to pull back to ensure the safety of our forces. Shortly thereafter, it detonated – we think that something may have gone wrong with the spell Testarossa was using. That was what caused the quake a few days ago, the entire structure fell into i-space.”

Momoko let out a quiet sob, and a brief pause fell over the conversation. Eventually, Shiro spoke. “I presume this… Imaginary Space… there were no bodies? Can you be certain that she was killed?”

Quint shook her head. “It’s a… a layer under the Dimensional Sea. Magic doesn’t work there. Anything that falls in is lost forever. Even if the explosion didn’t… nothing lost to i-space has ever been retrieved. Ever.” She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry for you loss. Believe me, if… if we could have resolved this any other way, any other way at all…”

Shiro held up a hand, cutting her off. “I understand,” he said hoarsely, “but I think I would really prefer it if you left now. I understand that it was not your fault, that my daughter made her own choices, but…” he took a deep, calming breath. “… go. Just… go, and let us grieve.” He glanced at Yuuno. “Thank you for telling us. Better that we know than be left wondering. But I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“Wait!” Yuuno looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. He drew out the sealed card form of the Storage Device Lindy had given him, and offered it to Momoko. Quint raised an eyebrow, but made no objection. “Here,” he said quietly. “She... would have wanted you to have this, I think. To be able to learn about magic. It’s a Device, like her Raising Heart.”

Momoko reached out to take it with trembling fingers as he continued with a slight hitch in his voice. “She… before she stepped back, before she went… she said to tell you. That she was sorry. That… she loved you, and that she would see you again. That she promised.”

The stone wall that was Shiro’s face softened slightly. “Well,” he murmured, “if there was ever a girl that could do the impossible, it would be Nanoha.” A sad smile twitched the corner of his mouth for an instant, before it was gone. “Thank you, young man. I will hold out hope that she is alive and well, somehow. And I’ll pray that… that wherever she is, she is happy.”

Yuuno nodded agreement. The door clicked shut in their faces. As they turned to go, they heard the sound of crying start from the other side.

The trip back up to the Asura felt a lot longer than the trip down had.

…

“You could have stayed.”

The words echoed oddly in the cramped corridor. The two girls crouched next to one another, leaning together for mutual support and staring out of the window at the coruscating play of bruise-coloured light outside. A kitten lay curled in the lap of one, batting a playful paw at the ears of a puppy lying between them. The floor jolted and juddered occasionally as the conditions outside buffeted their sanctuary, and intermittent creaking sounds came from somewhere in the ceiling. There was a sickening, uncertain feeling of movement in the stomach, which pulsed in waves as if the floor itself was moving up and down rhythmically.

There was a thoughtful pause, as Nanoha rested her head on her friend’s shoulder. “No,” she said eventually. “I don’t think I could have. Not when it meant leaving you and Arf and Linith. And…” she glanced backwards at the sealed door behind them, beyond which Linith was still fussing over her mistress. She had collapsed as they had arrived, and while her condition wasn’t as _obviously_ bad as it had been on that dark, horrible day when she had destroyed the submarine and brought them back to the Garden, they had still been ordered out while she recuperated.

“… and anyway, Alicia still needs me,” she finished, shying away from mentioning Precia. Fate looked more pensive than distraught, but Nanoha hadn’t missed the way her hands were reflexively tightening around one another. She covered them with one of her own, soothingly. “All of you do.”

She leaned closer in to Fate, half for comfort and half for warmth. It was cold in this place, Nanoha felt. Cold, and not too well lit. The air tasted of ozone, and the grey walls were smeared with oil and grime. She’d been given a blanket to sit on by the others, by the ones who had already been here when they had arrived, but the grated floor was none-too-comfortable even with that. And her body ached all over. It was not as bad as some things she had suffered through since she had learned she had magic, but it was an accumulated weariness. Every muscle in her body hurt.

Linith had said that some of it was a symptom of high, but safe levels of mana exposure, and had given her some horrible-tasting medicine which made her feel sick. It didn't make the aches go away, though. Not the ones in her body, and definitely not the ones in her heart. She stroked Vesta morosely, fondling her ears and playing with the longer fur of her ruff as the little kitten purred contentedly in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” said Fate softly, after a while. She didn’t look away from the wavering light display, and her words seemed to come from far away. “You did all of this to help my family, and now you’ve lost yours.” She turned, and Nanoha could see the concern and guilt that were gnawing at her. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to…”

A finger on her lips cut her off, and Nanoha shook her head sternly at her. “No,” she said firmly. “Yuuno-kun tried that line on me as well, the night we met for the second time. And I’ll say the same thing to you that I said to him back then. I _chose_ to do this. I chose to help you because I _wanted_ to, because I cared about you and because I thought it was the right thing to do!”

_‘She’s right, Mistress,’_ agreed Arf, wriggling forward to avoid being squashed between them. _‘You blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault. Nanoha is a brave girl who helped us because she believed in our goal. Saying that the hurts she got in doing so are your fault is like insulting her brave choice to help us in the first place! You can’t take that choice away from her; she deserves the honour of it._ ’

“Yeah!” nodded Nanoha firmly. “So don’t you dare think that you’re to blame for anything that happened to me! It was my choices that led me here, so I have to take my aches and pains! And…” she smiled tentatively, reaching around Fate’s shoulders in a clumsy one-armed hug, “and I don’t regret it, either. I mean, I’m sad about my family, but I’ll be able to see them again someday, and I've sent them some stuff on magic so at least they'll know I'm okay and be able to learn themselves. And I’ll be able to make things right with Yuuno-kun eventually, and apologise to Arisa-chan and Suzuka-chan for worrying them so much. And make up for the people on that ship who got hurt, and… and all the other…”

Fate hugged her back hard, silencing the list before Nanoha’s throat could choke up. The young 97er had been trying not to think about the consequences of her actions since they had left the Garden, but the gravity of the choice she had made was slowly beginning to trickle in anyway, like ice water down the back of her collar.

“You have us,” Fate whispered. “You’ve done so much for us, we can’t do anything less than everything we can to help you. All you have to do is ask.”

A light form jumped off Nanoha’s lap, and warm arms encircled her a moment later from behind. “You have me too, Mistress,” Vesta mumbled into her hair. “You’ll always have me, I promise. You’re my mistress, which means you don’t ever get to leave me behind, because you’re mine.”

_‘I’ll defend you like I would Fate!’_ promised Arf, jumping up onto her lap and nuzzling her. _‘You’re part of our family now! We won’t let you go, and we’ll protect you no matter what!’_

Nanoha smiled tearfully, relaxing in the warmth of the three-way hug. It wasn’t the most comfortable position physically – the cold grating of the floor was still hard and bumpy, and the way she was twisting to hug Fate put some strain on her aching side. But the emotional warmth of the love and support being offered eclipsed such minor discomforts a hundredfold.

“Thank you. All of you. I’m really lucky to have such good friends.” She sniffed, rubbing at damp eyes with the sleeve of her Barrier Jacket. “I thought… I guess I thought I was going to fix everything and have a happy ending where everybody won, and there was nothing to be sad about. But it doesn’t always work out like that, does it? Sometimes you can’t get a happy ending.”

“And sometimes you can.”

They all turned at the new voice, the mood lifting suddenly. Linith stood in the open doorway. There was a livid ring of bruises around her throat that would probably take weeks to fade, but she was smiling despite that. “She’s alright. You can come in now.”

The room was small and poky, with unpainted metal walls and a small radiator near the door. A jury-rigged curtain sectioned off one side, and most of the rest of the space was taken up by the Precia’s bed. Several battered but functional machines surrounded it, most of which were connected to leads that vanished under the covers. The beeping and readouts meant nothing to Nanoha, but the general consensus seemed positive. She made a face as she noticed an IV drip leading into the older woman’s left arm, and felt privately glad that she hadn’t needed something like that. Needles were bad enough when they were just injections. Having one in there for ages was not a pleasant prospect. 

Precia herself was sitting propped up on a number of pillows that had seen better days. She looked pale still, and she had bags under her eyes, but she offered them a thin smile regardless.

“Nanoha-san, Fate,” she greeted them. Her voice was hoarse from coughing, and she spoke in a quiet, rasping whisper. “I am glad to see you are well. Your familiars, too.”

“Mother…”

Nanoha tactfully stood back for a moment as Fate approached the bed and gently took Precia’s hand. Looking down at her feet, she tuned out the quiet confessions of relief and worry. Something about it seemed private, not for outsiders to interrupt. Fate had clearly been more worried than she had let on.

After a few seconds of brusque reassurance, Fate backed away again, apparently mollified. Nanoha bit her lip. There had been a question on her mind since shortly after leaving the Garden, and she wanted in answered. This seemed like a good time.

“So… um… Precia-san,” she began uncomfortably. Looking up, she found Precia watching her expectantly, and realised the woman probably already knew what she was about to say.

Nanoha looked the great mage in the eye, and asked for the answer she had been wondering about ever since their arrival in this place.

“When were you going to tell us that we weren't going to Alhazred?”

Silence fell for a minute, before the corners of Precia’s mouth curved further upwards as the thin smile became a full one. “When was I going to tell you?” she repeated, sounding strangely amused. “Why, dear child, I was not. My strategy depended upon the two of you not knowing its final stages, and I must say that you played your part admirably.”

“I don’t- wait, I did?” Nanoha stuttered in confusion, her annoyance at the deception cut off at the ankles. She looked to Fate for help, and met a similarly puzzled expression. They turned back to Precia, silently asking for an explanation.

She chuckled, low and quiet. “Let me start from the beginning,” she said. “When the two of you set off that dimensional quake and alerted the TSAB to our presence, I was initially furious. My plan had hinged on them never discovering that we had been here. It had been some time since I clashed with them, and had my initial strategy succeeded, we would have been able to move to some uninhabited world with Alicia while Nanoha-san remained with her family, and the TSAB would eventually have given me up as dead when I failed to ever reappear.”

She sighed mournfully. “I was able to adapt to their involvement, but it would still have nice if the two of you had not triggered that dimensional quake.” Nanoha and Fate both winced visibly, and she continued smoothly. “Ah, but I can forgive such mistakes, since they ultimately led to our success. For it was from that same Jewel Seed that Fate brought me some new information.”

Fate’s eyes lit up as several pieces slotted into place. “The hospital!” she realised. “Those… um…”

“Yes, the reanimation that the Jewel Seed displayed,” Precia finished for her. “Flawed and incomplete, but with such potential. I began to run tests to see if it was plausible as a means of achieving our goal. But I couldn’t tell you about the change in plans.”

_‘Why not?’_ objected Arf. _‘It’s not like we would have argued. You’re the one with the geniusness and… stuff.’_

Precia nodded matter-of-factly, accepting the awkwardly-worded praise. “Indeed, and I never feared you would argue with a change in plans, not when it brought with it a greater chance of success. No, the reason for my silence was the TSAB. I had faith in the four of you, which I am pleased to see was entirely justified.” She waited a moment for the beaming smiles to die down. “But should the worst have happened and you had been caught by the Bureau, I could not be entirely sure that they might not have wrung our plans from you.”

Nanoha opened her mouth to protest, feeling hot indignation shooting through her. It must have shown on her face or Fate’s, for Precia quickly continued. “I do not think you would have done so willingly,” she added, “I am sure you would not betray me. But by trickery or persuasion, they might have discovered the plan nonetheless. Not to mention the fact that… well, you are nine. Children talk freely, and mistakes can happen.” Nanoha flushed, and Precia nodded.

“And so I kept my own council, telling you some of the truth, but not all of it. When Nanoha let slip to the Bureau what we planned, it made them wary, and my little speech during that stand-off will have convinced them that we went through with the original plan, to travel to Alhazred and their revive Alicia from the stasis she is held in.” She smirked. “The last spell I cast before teleporting us away from the Garden triggered the reactor to self-destruct. The entire structure will have fallen into i-space and been lost – which also means they will not find anything to help them guess at what we were doing, and the entire thing will have looked like a failed passage into Imaginary Space. To be blunt, dear girls, they think us dead, and will have called off the search for us. Not quite as I would have hoped for, but the outcome is effectively the same either way.”

She turned to Nanoha. “However, she said, “activating the higher echelons of the defences was, I fear, another mistake. Using lethal force on their officers is not an offense that the TSAB looks lightly on, and while I concur with you that there were probably no fatalities, they will not be nearly so forgiving in future, and they may continue to search for us for some time before they conclude that we are truly dead.”

She watched as Nanoha’s head sank in guilt and Vesta huddled closer to her, mewling in sympathetic distress. A tap to the side of the bed regained the girl’s attention. “Do not feel guilty on my behalf, my dear. I fear that you have hurt your own cause more than mine with that action, for it may not be safe for you to return to Earth for rather longer than might otherwise have been possible. I will not lay blame on your shoulders for it – it was an innocent mistake on your part – but it will cost you, and I am sorry that I did not warn you in more depth of the strength of the defences. I trust you can forgive me for it? And also, on that note, for deceiving you?”

“Yes, of course!” blurted Nanoha. If Precia could forgive her for the mistakes _she_ had made, she could do no less for such a little thing, especially since it had worked. “I wasn’t mad, just a bit confused as to why you didn’t tell me and Fate…”

As she mentioned Fate’s name, it occurred to her that she hadn’t heard her friend respond in kind to Precia’s plea for forgiveness. Curious as to what could have held her back, Nanoha glanced over. Fate was looking at Precia, eyes wide and full of painful hope.

“Then…” she whispered quietly, “If Alhazred wasn’t the plan… does that mean… Alicia…”

Linith beamed, glancing towards the curtain-covered portion of the room, and Precia’s eyes glittered triumphantly. “Indeed,” she confirmed. “My research and study was sufficient – after several attempts – to do what the TSAB have proclaimed impossible. To do what I thought I would need the ancient miracle-workers of Alhazred to achieve. To perfect that rough, crude process and streamline it into a safe and stable purpose.”

Despite the bags under her eyes and the ghostly pallor to her face, she had never looked more elated or exultant in all the time that Nanoha had known her as she breathed her next words.

“We need not go to Alhazred, children, because we no longer need them. I… I have rivalled, and possibly even exceeded their accomplishments! The Promethean mechanism I designed was not merely a form of life support like the tank, to keep her in stasis where her condition could not worsen. It was a _full_ revival, bringing Alicia completely and entirely back into the world of the living.”

She took in their faces – awestruck, in Nanoha’s case, and euphoric, in Fate’s – for a long, self-satisfied moment, before speaking again.

“Would you like to see her?”

…

Nanoha looked down at the tiny form on the bed that had been concealed behind the curtain. In case she had woken up early, Linith had explained. Precia had point-blank refused to be even a single room away from her daughter, but they hadn’t wanted Alicia scared if she had woken while Precia was still in a bad way. The bed was simple, and only a couple of machines stood beside it, monitoring her condition.

Tears were spilling from Fate’s eyes, and Arf’s tail was wagging so hard that Nanoha privately wondered that it hadn’t fallen off. Her own heart was in her throat. This was what they had been fighting for, struggling for, working so hard towards for what seemed like so long.

The covers rose and fell gently with the rhythm of Alicia’s breathing. Her long blonde hair spilled out over the pillow, and one of her arms lay over her chest above the covers, grasping feebly at a fold in the bedsheet. Her eyes flickered sporadically, darting this way and that under closed lids, chasing dreams.

A soft glow emanated from her chest, barely visible through the thick covers. It brightened as she breathed in, and dimmed again with every exhalation. Nanoha’s eyes widened further, but not from awe and elation.

“Is that…” she whispered fearfully.

“A Jewel Seed, yes.” Precia replied, from her bed. “The same one from the hospital, in fact. The mechanism should work regardless, all it contributes is power, but I felt it safest to use a known element.” She took in the frightened looks on the girls’ faces. “Fear not; there is no need to be concerned. The output of the Jewel Seed is recursively looped into its containment. The more it tries to activate, the more it is suppressed, with only a trickle of power directed into the mechanism. Enough to keep Alicia alive and animate, and likely increase her magical abilities, but no more. There may be other effects, but none of them appear physically detrimental, at least in the short term. I will be monitoring her closely during her recuperation…”

She paused as a window opened up in front of her. It was a little distorted, but not so much that the occupant couldn’t be seen. The man had a thin, scoured, weather-beaten face with an impressive scar running along one side of his forehead. A scraggly beard and shoulder-length greasy hair framed it, and two sharp eyes glinted under bushy brows.

“Miss Testarossa,” he said by way of greeting. His voice was as weathered as his face, with the kind of croak that must have come from years of smoking and shouting himself hoarse. “Do we have a destination set, or have you yet to decide?”

“I have decided, Hektor,” said Precia calmly. “I will send you the coordinates. Our agreed price will be enough?”

“It will,” he nodded, glancing off to the side as her fingers played across the screen. There was a faint tone from something on the other end of the link, and he nodded again. “Alright, I have it. Looks to be two or three days travel from here. We’ll take payment when we land.” The link closed with a crackle, and Precia turned back to the girls.

“Smugglers,” she explained, wrinkling her nose. “Well, certainly, they move things around, usually things that someone doesn't want moved. They're fairly trustworthy, at least by the standards of the criminal underworld and borderspace. I've dealt with Hektor before. And he won't deal with the TSAB, for much the same reason as we wouldn't; if they got their hands on him, he'd end up in some orbital prison.”

Nanoha and Fate nodded uncertainly, trusting her judgement on that. Arf, however, was preoccupied with something else. _‘Actually, hang on,’_ she said, _‘what about the mana poisoning?’_ She craned her neck upwards for a few seconds, unable to get a good look at the girl from floor level, before giving up and reverting to human form to better study her. “Wasn’t her body mana-saturated? I can’t see how adding a Jewel Seed would make things any better.”

“In a sense,” Precia said, tickling the purring Vesta under the chin, “it's all thanks to Vesta here.”

_‘Naturally!’_ the kitten replied proudly. _‘Um. How?’_

“When Fate provided me with the chance to look at you, much to my surprise you were not grievously ill with mana-sickness; in fact, that kind of exposure indicated you should already have been dead. And yet you were in perfectly good health, with exposure levels barely above what I would have expected from the single transport that brought you to the Garden. It indicated that, in some way, despite the complete rewriting of your form by the Jewel Seed, it had not affected you. Which meant that somehow, impossibly, the Jewel Seed was bypassing all the rules of biology that I knew. And there was another point. From Bardiche's recordings, I could see that the giant cat was acting in a manner much like a cat would act.”

_‘It's all a bit of a blur for me, ’_ Vesta said, helpfully. _‘Like everything else that happened before I got smart, only more so. ’_

“I wouldn't say you're that smart,” Nanoha teased, giving her ears a stroke.

_‘Mistress! So mean!’_

Precia cleared her throat. “So, that was another fascinating data point. It indicated that, despite the complete...” she flapped her hand, “... oh, let's be as unscientific as to call it 'possession', though the word grates at me – despite _that_ , the mind was preserved and was still thinking and in control. We saw the difference many times, and also, with the hospital one, we saw the reanimation and preservation of the main host despite the neural degradation from death and the resultant structural breakdown of the brain... factors which I have taken great care not to subject Alicia to.”

“That still doesn’t explain how it actually works, though,” Arf pointed out, somewhat unimpressed. Precia waved her off, looking grim.

“I am a scientist,” she said. “I am not a mathematician; I am not a Device meister. I do not need to understand the contents of a black box to make use of it. It was clear that, somehow, the Jewel Seed could violate everything I knew about mana poisoning and somehow make it... meaningless. So I studied it. I studied how it worked, I studied everything I could about input and output, and I paid careful attention to how stabilisation worked. And then I used what I knew to create…”

“Mmph…”

Utter silence fell. All heads turned to the bed, where the little five-year old had shifted in her sleep. She stretched unconsciously, her hand grasping at the covers as she turned over. The hushed quiet in the room could have cut glass.

_‘I was wrong,’_ Nanoha sent to Fate, murmuring even through telepathy. Fate half-turned towards her, not taking her eyes off the stirring form on the bed.

_‘Wrong?’_

Nanoha nodded, similarly enraptured. _‘There_ are _happy endings, ’_ she clarified. _‘Maybe not always, but not_ never _, either. You just… have to work for them. Earn them. Do something worth it. ’_

_‘Was it?’_ Fate asked, curious. _‘Worth it, I mean.’_

“Mmm…” The tiny little form on the bed somehow seemed both more and less fragile and ephemeral than she had in the stasis tank. She shifted again, slowly finally drifting out of a sleep that had lasted for more than twenty five years. Fate’s breath caught in her throat, and she could hear Nanoha taking a sharp gasp of air beside her and holding it in suspense.

Blonde eyelashes fluttered as the girl’s eyes opened, revealing irises the same deep red as Fate’s own. And she spoke, her voice slurred by sleep and dizziness, but still sweet and clear in the captivated quiet.

“… mama?” she mumbled.

“Here,” whispered Precia, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I’m here, Alicia. Right here.”

_‘Yes,’_ whispered Nanoha silently, reverently. _‘Yes. It was worth it.’_

…

The sun shone down on a lush green hillside. Fluffy white clouds drifted through the sky as a gentle wind stirred the grass and whistled through the leaves of the wide-limbed tree at the hill’s crest. A kitten and a puppy chased each other in a game of tag around its roots and trunk, pouncing and tumbling one another over in turns.

Lower down on the hill, two children lay on their backs in the long grass, their bodies forming hollows in the green stalks and bright flowers. Their hands were linked, holding each other with the comfortable ease of close friendship, and they pointed out shapes to one another in the clouds, laughing and chatting happily.

A red jewel gleamed in a pendant around the brown-haired girl’s neck, and her blonde friend wore a triangle of golden metal set into the back of her glove. The Devices were once again in perfect condition, the wear and damage from constant battles repaired. They lay dormant for now, unnecessary in the peaceful afternoon of rest and relaxation.

Near them, in a clear patch where the meadow grass was shorter, a blanket had been spread. Bowls and plates festooned it, some of them piled high with food, and others depleted or emptied entirely. A sandy-haired woman in a white tunic knelt on it, humming a little tune to herself as she packed empty plates back into a hamper. She cast delighted glances as she did so to the woman sitting beside her, clearly pleased with what she saw.

It wasn’t surprising why. The warm sun and cool air looked like they had taken ten years off her mistress’s face. Her long mane of purple hair fell freely down past the middle of her back, and her skin had a healthier glow than it had seen in years. Or perhaps it wasn’t the sunlight or the fresh air that had caused the transformation and put a warm smile of love and happiness on pale lips that had been devoid of one for far too long. Perhaps it was instead the spectacle she looked at.

On the rich green grass of an Unadministered World, a little girl ran and played. She shouted joyfully as she jumped from one activity to another, changing direction to pick brightly coloured flowers and weave them into daisy-chains and necklaces, or to chase after the butterflies that fluttered lazily from petal to petal. The soft violet glow from underneath her sundress was all but invisible through the sky-blue cotton, and only a sharp eye would see the way in pulsed merrily in time with her peals of clear, high laughter.

Smears of jam and dirt marked her dress and her fingers, but she didn’t seem to mind or even notice as she worked carefully on fitting the last stalk of a flower into the necklace she had constructed. Her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth as she focused intently on her masterpiece, deep red eyes the same colour as her final flower narrowed in concentration.

Tugging the knot tight, she held up the garland in triumph and turned towards the picnic blanket. Calling out for her mother’s attention – an unnecessary gesture, as the older woman’s eyes followed her every move with love and tenderness intense enough to be seen at a glance – she ran back up to present her creation to admiring eyes and appreciative cooing.

And as her daughter intently settled the garland around her neck, the look on Precia Testarossa’s face could not be called anything less than radiant.

…


	16. Final Words

A brief flash of light cast the room’s shadows into high relief as a dark blue circle grew from nothing on the floor. In the space of a heartbeat, it flashed upwards into a pillar, and then dissolved into tiny motes that settled back to the ground.

Left standing at the centre of the spell was a woman, with long grey hair and feline ears. Her tail was drooping, and she stifled a yawn, but she still held herself with remarkable discipline as the chair across the room swivelled round.

Gil looked up from the book he had been reading, setting aside a glass of wine and closing the screen with an idle gesture. “Aria,” he greeted her pleasantly. “It’s been almost a week. Lotte was getting worried.”

“She had less reason to worry than I did. Silly girl, breaking her arm like that,” Aria scolded. “Anyway, I had to hang around for a while after some complications showed up.”

An eyebrow rose, and Gil gestured for her to elaborate.

“That dimensional quake didn’t do her any good – I was actually afraid for a moment that she was going to go into seizures. I was about to step in when she settled down, though. And it looks like the stress jarred loose our objective.”

Gil breathed in sharply, raking long fingers through his hair. “Then it’s begun? It’s activated?”

“Yes sir,” Aria confirmed. “All four familiars have taken form – three females, one male wolf-familiar. The Blade, the Breaker, the Healer and the Hound. I have full photographic dossiers on all of them and their appearances this iteration, and I’ve made the necessary arrangements as far as their paperwork is concerned. They’re Hayate’s cousins from out of the country, who’ve moved back in to look after her. Hayate herself is back in… well, not _good_ health, but as well as might be expected with that damn Book leeching off her.”

Her master leaned forward, head in hands.

The familiar reached into her pack, producing a box of papers. “I also have copies of all her medical reports since the last update. Her condition is as predicted – the slight downturn recently might suggest that it was likely to happen soon anyway.”

Grief flickered across Gil’s face as he glanced across at the smiling picture of a young brown-haired girl on his desk. “So…” he breathed. “No going back from now on. The plan is in motion. I’m sorry, Hayate. I hope you can forgive me for this.”

Aria crossed the room to lay a hand on his shoulder supportively. “She would, master,” she promised. “I’m sure she would. We’re doing the right thing. And she was doomed as soon as that thing chose her as a host.”

He nodded heavily. “I know. I just wish it didn’t require… this.” He sighed. “Go and greet your sister, she’s been staying up late each night waiting for you to come back.” He watched as Aria nodded and paced out of the room. The girls were more devoted to the cause than he was, in some ways. They didn’t have the burden of old age and weariness on their shoulders.

Sometimes their trust, their damnable certainty and faith in him weighed heavily.

He turned back to the picture of Hayate and picked up his glass of wine again, swirling the deep red liquid around in its container.

“So,” he murmured to himself, “the Jewel Seed Incident is over.” He raised the glass in a mocking toast, feeling older than he had in years.

“Even as the Book of Darkness case begins. May God help us all.”

…

_Author’s Note: The sequel to Game Theory, **Power Games** , will be coming soon. Subscribe to my author alert to be notified when it does. Otherwise, thank you for reading. Game Theory was my first major fictional project, and I have learned a lot in the course of writing it. I hope you enjoyed it, and that I will continue to improve as I write its sequels._

…

**END**


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